Never Let Go
by FutureNovelist887
Summary: I know I've done something like this before, but I'm going to try it again. Anya and Dimitri are twins, and when the Reaping comes for District Five, Anya is certain she won't get picked...but what happens if twins go against one another in the Games?
1. Welcome to the Reaping

My wheel chair lies on the ground next to me. I can't move. I can't breathe. I can't think. My vision is clouded. Where's my brother?

My throt feels clogged with smoke and fire. My whole body is going numb, and the only thought I have is what they will do now? There will not be one, at all. They killed us both, I'm sure of it. Who will accept the crown from him?

A cough echoes in my ears. Is it mine? Or is it his...

Memories flood in my mind, causing venomous tears to run down my scarred cheeks. The soot must be smearing, as my vision is now worse. I remember that day, how I hated it, how it came and engulfed us. We are only fourteen.

We are just twins.

* * *

The bed was warm, and when he stood above me it grew cold.

"I don't want to," I said harshly, covering my face. Dimitri sighed and shook his head.

"We have to go. I have to give you a bath."

"Maybe I don't want to bathe! I'd rather be nice and stinky for Ms. Dariya."

"You're acting like a child, Anastasia."

"I am a child."

"Anya, come on! You know for a fact that they won't pick us. Our names have only been put in there ten times this year. Now, let's go, up and at 'em."

I sighed and threw the blankets off, exposing my white gown and skinny legs. Dimitri slowly wrapped his arms around my torso and lifted me into a sitting up position before turning me sideways so he could pick me up. He'd probably take me straight to the bath. He did, carrying me bridal style. The water was surprisingly hot. "When did you make this?" I asked.

"I got up around five this morning, warming two pails for you and two pails for me. I almost ran the well dry," he smiled at me, unbraiding my hair and rubbing shampoo through it. My brother has this way about him, to where he thinks I can't do anything at all. I could wash myself if he left me alone in the bathroom, but he never does. Never did. He never let me prove it, either.

He took a cup and rinsed the bubbles out of my hair, then proceeded to wash the rest of me with soap and sponge. Dimitri worked carefully on my legs, taking every precaution as he inched his way downward. All the doctors from the Capitol had said the same thing: it was deadly if he broke one of my bones. Something about the marrow and poisonous chemicals contained for too long.

I'd been paralyzed since before I could remember. I never questioned it to any higher power.

Dimitri and Mother did though, oh, how they did. Prayers were common in our house, as was reading the Bible, but never had I prayed to walk. They all looked funny, the walkers, to me. Dimitri and Mother however would pray that someday I would magically stand up and be normal, go to school normal, walk like normal.

Suffice to say, it never happened, not then at least.

Once he was done bathing me he picked me out of the tub and took me back to my room. He dressed me in a light grey frock and white socks, new shoes from the trade-market. They were black and white, and they conformed to my feet comfortably.

I laughed. "Dimitri! How did you get these?" I wanted so bad to wiggle them with my toes and feet.

"I pulled a few strings." he patted my knee. "Mother should be in any minute now, to tell you how good you look and tell you goodbye for now. I'm going to go bathe."

My twin, still smiling, went back to the bathroom. I knew good and well his water would now be damp in temperature, and I felt guilty for going first. Dimitri always did that, too. He gave to others before himself. It's what I loved about him.

As he predicted, Mother came in and saw me, sitting dressed and laughing at a book in my wheel chair.

"You look lovely," her classical line rang out.

"Thank you," I placed my book open side down in my lap. "How was the City?"

"Crowded and loud. I had to go in earlier last night, after you two were off to bed. Mr. Popling has been straining shifts more and more, making them last as long as he could get them."

"A raise?" My voice was hopeful.

She shook her head and squatted next to me, grabbing my shoulders and staring into my eyes. None of the news was new to me; it never changed.

Dimitri walked in, now dressed in a plain shirt and trousers, with his old, ratty shoes. He tugged on his shirt and smirked like he was a grown man adored by many women.

She leaned forward and kissed my forehead gently, squeezing my hand and standing up, ruffling her fingers through my brother's dark curly hair. "Take care of her," she whispered in his ear, kissing him on the cheek and walking down the hallway to sleep off work for a few hours.

Dimitri looked to me, a broad grin on his face. "Ready to get this over with?

"As I'll ever be." He chuckled and walked around behind me, pushing the chair forward. As always I thought about how I could've pushed it myself. Over protective was what described Dimitri well, although I won't admit that I didn't enjoy the attention sometimes.

The walk to the Reaping was solemn and quiet, as Dimitri and I hardly talked. I listened to the creak of my chair, the crush of rocks under us, the butterflies fluttering and the birds chirping high in the trees.

Occasionally I tuned them out and listen to Dimitri's breathing. It was strong and passionate, as if every breath might be his last and he was making the most of it. Then there was mine; raspy, out of tune, struggling. It'd always been that way, ever since I'd had whooping cough or pertussis when I was a baby. It caused "permanent damage" as the Capitols put it.

That would get me killed if I were in the Arena. I knew it would, and that was what made me fear the most; it wasn't my chair, but the breathing. I must've been out of my mind.

The Square was loquacious. I couldn't ever hear myself think, much less what Dimitri was trying to say to me when he rolled me to the girls' side. 'Can you handle it from here?' he mouthed. I nodded, and made the sign-language sign for "love you". He grinned, did it back, then headed off to his side. I sat my place in line until they called "next" and I went up and had my finger pricked. They told me to move on, an upset look spread across their features. I kept on pushing the giant wheels, finally coming to a stop in the middle of the crowd.

Dariya Wedroe took the stage, her hair bright neon yellow and her clothes neon green. She wore green eyeliner that I could see distinctly from forty feet away.

"Welcome, welcome!" she cheered into her microphone, "To the seventy-third annual Hunger Games Reaping of District Five!"

Claps rang out. I wasn't one of them.

Dariya smiled. "Good, good. Now, as is tradition, we will do the ladies first." Walking over in her ten inch hot pink heels, Dariya ran her fingers through the bowl, circling it like a shark.

You know that feeling in the pit of your stomach that you get when you know you're going to get picked to read something out loud in class? I had that feeling, and I wanted to flee, to wheel away faster than lightening, because I knew that as soon as she read that card I would be a tribute, a dead one anyway.

She smiled like a Tyrannosaurus does before ripping its meal to pieces, as she read out, "The District Five girl tribute will be..."

The seconds ticked by endlessly, and she looked as if she were smiling to every person in the expansive crowd.

"Anastasia Flemhoff," she smiled, and then waited. I didn't move; I was frozen. Dimitri's eyes widened and he looked at me, and I could tell he was about to bolt, until he realized there was no way he would be able to volunteer for me. He was a boy, I a girl.

His words rang in my head, _We're only in there ten times this year. You won't get picked. _

You were wrong, I thought sourly, finally gaining the courage and moving forward. Some gasped (including Dariya), some laughed slightly, some whispered, "Oh, God..." as if I were a poison.

I rolled all the way to the stairs with the Escorts beside me. I couldn't get up on stage if I wanted to.

Dariya motioned one of them over and whispered something to him, at which he repeated to all of the men. The next thing I knew, they were lifting me into the air, grunting and straining, managing to get me over by sheer luck. My face was redder than a tomato, as the crowd went silent, finally starring at the girl in the wheel chair who would be their tribute.

Dariya, smiling again, looked back out to the crowd (she'd already grabbed the boys') and read out the name. "The District Five boy tribute is...Warren Splice!"

People cheered and clapped. Warren was the toughest, most popular boy at school, who took three different types of gym a day. He was also Dimitri's enemy.

Dimitri's reaction was immediate, although when our eyes met I begged him not to, whispering, "No..."

He did it anyway, running out and screaming, "I volunteer!"

Once again collective gasps erupted, as he pushed Warren back and ran up to the stage.

Warren's face released its tension and his paleness went away. He nodded his thanks, though we all knew it wasn't for Warren or some insane death wish to prove him to district Five; it was to protect me.

Dariya laughed, "This is marvelous! Tell us your name, sir,"

She held the microphone under his nose. "Dimitri Flemhoff," he stated proudly, looking strong and elegant compared to me.

"Oh, so I see. Is this your younger sister?" She was referring to me.

"No, she's my twin," he admitted.

"And how old are the two of you?"

"Fourteen..." I mumbled, but she ignored me and shouted, "Well, now, as you can see we have our two tributes - Anastasia and Dimitri Flemhoff!"

There was no applauding. There wasn't even a cricket chirp.

And then, as they always did to wish luck, everyone held three fingers to their lips and lifted them upwards.

I took it as a sign to never let go.

* * *

**_I don't know if I'll make this a one shot or not. I might continue, if asked, but as of right now I think I'll leave it as this. I have to finish "Life" first. :) God bless!_**

**_~Future_**


	2. Saying Goodbye

"_Never Let Go: A District Five Reaping_," Dariya read aloud from the newspaper, happily taking a puff from her cigarette. She laughed as she continued to read, "_What started off as a merely simple Reaping turned array when Anastasia Flemhoff(14)'s **twin brother **Dimitri decided to step in and volunteer. This leaves the Capitol to wonder - is it just brotherly, sibling love, or something even more? _This is priceless! You two will be absolutely _buzzing _with sponsors during the Games!"

"Maybe we don't want sponsors," I mumbled, knowing that I hadn't meant it, but wanted to contradict anything that she said. The smoke from her cigarette was getting on my nerves, not that I could leave the table. Dimitri had parked my wheels there and refused to unlock them for fear the train would throw me about. Dariya kept reading from the newspaper, talking about how Caesar Flickerman can't wait to get his hands on us at the interviews. I tuned her out when she started asking us how the goodbyes went. I didn't want to talk about it.

The memory flashed in front of my eyes, anyway.

* * *

**_Two Hours Earlier..._**

"Hey!" Dimitri shouted as the Escorts yanked my chair wheels away from him. "Just let me - I mean, it'll only be a second - "

Two of them grabbed him by either arm, and the one on the left clamped his mouth shut. He started to kick and struggle as they wheeled me in roughly, not even bothering to set me on the plush couch, which I had secretly wanted. "Anya!" Dimitri called my name as the door was shutting. "I'll be back to get you in – "

I sighed and rubbed my hand over my face. I had planned to be at home right now, perhaps sitting on our own couch and not my chair, watching the recaps of the Reaping, eating whatever Mother ordered out, most likely chicken tenders or some rabbit stew. We weren't poor on District Five standards, but we weren't the richest in the city. I could picture Dimitri sitting beside me, watching the recaps with me, smiling and chewing on popcorn, though occasionally looking at me and asking if I was comfortable, if I needed anything. Then he would prop his feet up on the coffee table, and I would give him a disgusted look and roll my eyes before telling him his feet smelt like horse crap.

That made me smile softly, but still I closed my eyes and put my fingers to my temples, trying to figure things out for myself. Why me, of all the people in the world? It was never fair for people to have to go into the Games in the first place, but me? The poor little girl with the wheezy breathing and the deathly legs?

I sat up quickly when the door clicked open, and my mother stood there. She shoved the guards away, not hard enough to be taken as assault, but not soft enough to not give them a bit of hint.

"Mama…"

"Oh, baby," Mother came and she actually picked up my fragile, nearly weightless body and took us to the couch so she could hold me closer. She held me as close as she could get me, my arms wrapped around her, my head rested on her shoulder, nestles into her neck, smelling the sickly sweet perfume she'd bought from her boss. That's when the tears came. They poured down my face and I cringed into her back.

"Shh…" she whispered, caressing my hair and rocking us back and forth. "It's okay, I'm here, I'm here…" She pressed her lips softly to my forehead, then held me closer. The Peacemakers came in way too fast.

"I love you," was all I was able to say as they came to grab her. She grabbed my hand, gave it a squeeze, and kissed my knuckles.

"You'll win this," she assured.

"Don't cry…" it was barely audible, but she seemed to understand, although they still brimmed in her eyes. She glared at the Peacemakers on either side of her. "Let go of me," she snarled. "I know how to leave."

Mother stomped out, making the sign language sign for "I love you" as she left. I made it back.

I didn't figure anyone else would want to come and see me. Instead, I contemplated on how on this Earth I was getting back into that chair.

* * *

**_Dimitri's POV: _**

I paced about the room, my hands behind my back, muttering my worries and concerns. Most of it pertained to Mom and Anastasia. I guess I was searching for some higher power to explain it to me. I found myself eventually getting on my knees and praying.

I hadn't expected this, not in the least. Not my sister, no. That wasn't her name they had called up there, that's what I had first thought. Surely they said something else, such as Christina Asia Wormcough or something like that. I knew, though, they had called Anya, and that she was now in the Games and I couldn't stop it. I couldn't volunteer.

That's when I started praying again. I prayed and prayed and prayed that I'd get picked, so I could protect her, keep her safe from harm.

And when it didn't, I knew all hope was lost. Until I got my idea. I felt so alive when I volunteered, like I had done something worthy for the sake of another, though on the inside it seemed to be a sense of pride, almost. A pride in what, I didn't know.

When the door opened, I thought for sure it was mom. Immediately I said, "Please tell me you've already talked to – oh."

Warren Splice stood in the doorway. His emotion was hard to read, until the toughest bad-boy in our District wrapped me in a warm hug. It was so unexpected I gasped, and after a moment he let go, clamping a huge hand on my shoulder. "Thank you," was all he said.

"I didn't do it for you," I said, ruining the entire mood of his visit. "I did it for my sister. This is not a sign of forgiveness for anything you've said to or about us over the years, you understand? I didn't do this for you."

"I would have protected her," he said defensively.

"Or would you? School for her was horrible because of you. She dreaded getting up in the morning for fear of what you'd come up with next. 'Poor little girl got to have her brother take care of her' I won't even begin to repeat the others." My imitation of him was horrendous, but it suited.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly after a moment.

I'm not sure what came over me, perhaps compassion, pity. I sighed and ran a hand through my curly hair. "It's not forgiven," I stated again. "It is, however, at a truce until we get back. You understand."

Warren nodded just as the Peacemakers came to take him away. Mom shoved right past them and came in, engulfing me in a hug.

"I love you, Dimitri," she mumbled into my ear. "And I know that you'll look after her. I need you to understand something first, though." She led me over to the small sofa and sat us down next to each other. Mom grabbed my hand. "I need you to promise me something."

"Okay," I complied. "Anything."

"Give your sister some space. Don't do so much for her. She can handle herself out there and she needs to prove herself to the other tributes. They're tough this year. Really, really tough."

"But Mother I –"

"Dimitri," her tone was pleading. "_Please._"

"I…I promise."

"Good." She kissed my forehead and ruffled my hair. "Your father would be so proud of you, of the both of you."

"I know, Mom."

The Peacekeepers opened the door.

"Stay safe," _I love you _in sign language.

"Stay warm." I did it back.

"And in the morning," she stepped towards the door.

"When it's calm." I felt tears coming.

"You'll be in my loving,"

"Caring,"

"Arms."

The door shut behind her with too much finality about it, and I felt sick to my stomach. Just then, another came in, and told me in monotone, "It's time to board the train."

* * *

**_Anastasia's POV:_**

**_Present Time_**

Thinking about it made me tear up all over again. "I want to go to bed, Dimitri. Unlock my chair."

He ignored me. He didn't even look up to see me.

"_Dimitri._" I said more forcefully.

Nothing.

"Would you _please…_You know what? I can get it myself." I reached down, just barely being able to touch the tip of the unlock switch. When I finally clicked it backwards, something surged in me, traveling up and down my body, warming me from head to toe. Freedom.

I rolled away by myself, at each moment awaiting Dimitri's firm grasp on the back. It never happened. I smiled wide and bit my lip to contain my laughter before pedaling faster and faster until I reached my room and came to a stop. My heart was pounding and I was panting more than usual, but still I'd never felt so…so alive. I'd never felt so human in all of my days. I glanced down the hall. No Dimitri.

Perhaps it wouldn't be too bad in the Games after all.

* * *

_**I don't own "The Hunger Games", that all goes to Ms. Collins. I do however own my OC's. :)**_

_**Hope you enjoyed!**_

_**~Future**_


	3. Praying for Daylight

_"Mommy, tell me a story," I requested, lying on my bed, smiling up at her. _

_"What kind of story?" she finished folding my clothes and put them in the dresser, then stood up and smiled back at me. _

_"A nighttime story." _

_"Which one? You love so many of them."_

_"Tell us how we gots our names again," Dimitri grinned, his two front teeth missing. _

_"How we **got**," Mother specified. "Are you sure you want to hear that one? I could tell you about Jack and the gigantic Beanstalk, or Beauty and the magnificent Beast – "_

_"We wanna hear this one," I assured her, giving a small thumbs up to Dimitri, who returned it in a heartbeat. _

_"Okay, okay," Mom ran her hands over her face, and sat on the edge of my bed, still folding some of Dimitri's clothes. _

_"Once upon a very long time," Mom smiled, "I was a little girl, and my grandmother would always show me some of these incredibly old movies. She'd tell me of how they used to be classics, movies she loved to watch over and over again. It was called **Anastasia**, a movie about a lost Russian princess who was the last remaining heir to the Romanof thrown. Well, one night she sat me down and put the DVD, that's what they used to call CZS's, into our player and said, 'You'll love this one, Darling.'"_

_"Hey, that's your name!" I said. _

_She giggled at me. "Yes, that's my name. Anyway, I simply nodded and sat directly in front of the 'TV', which you two know as the WSS. That's why I need my contacts, because I hurt my eyes."_

_"Oh no, Mommy, is it bad?" Dimitri asked worriedly. _

_"No, baby, no. It just means I can't see real well without them, like when I took you two for your eye exams at the Capitol and they put those drops in your eyes?" _

_"That hurt me, too, Mommy," I said. _

_"Yeah, me, too." Dimitri nodded his agreement. _

_"I understand, sweethearts. I really do. But let's get back to the story, shall we?" she chuckled and took a deep breath before continuing. "As I watched, I fell absolutely in love with the bond that Anastasia and Dimitri had."_

_"Those are our names," Dimitri felt proud that he had beat me to it. _

_Mom laughed. "Very good, Dimi. Like you, the real Dimitri secretly cared for all that he met, especially Anastasia. And Annie, Anastasia was strong willed and stood up for what she believed it. She was smart and beautiful, just like you." Mom tapped my nose. _

_"When your father and I met, the first thing I told him was that if I had any children the girl would be named Anastasia and the boy Dimitri. He didn't decline, and instead told me he liked how unusual and historical they sounded. We married about a year later, and not too soon after we had Shane. And when we found out we were having you two, and I knew it would be a girl **and **a boy, well…I went ecstatic. I was so excited. And now here you two are, alive, and healthy. You are all I could ever ask for." Mom glanced down at her watch and pretended to feel faint. "Oh, my Lord. It's nine-thirty; time for two little three year olds to get to bed. Love you."_

_"Love you, too," we said in unison. Mom kissed us both on the cheek, and then started to close our door when there was a pounding on the front door. Dimitri, being his worrier self, stayed in bed. I, however, wanted to investigate. I walked out **(I'll explain this down below)**_ _quietly, sneaking so she wouldn't notice me. I stopped at the top of the stairs. _

_"Where is he?" she asked, her voice choked. _

_"We're sorry, Ms. Adams…"_

_"Where – is – my – son?" _

_"He died, Ms. Adams. In the…in the Games." Mom didn't move a muscle. Her mouth twitched and her hands whizzed back and forth like mini airplanes. _

_"Shane…he…my deaf son…di-died?" _

_"If there's anything we can do – "_

_"No, no, that's fine…" she mumbled, off in space. "And it's Mrs. Flemhoff…I just…I can't…thank you, officers. Paul!" I had leaned in closer to hear, and I suddenly lost my footing and went tumbling down the stairs. I rolled over and over and over so many times. I remember thinking, "Wow, this is it, I lived three years and I'm gone." I remember hitting the bottom stair and being in so much pain that I almost wanted to die. And I remember my mother, screaming, stuck in the grip of my father as I was put on a moving bed and carried outside. I screamed loud enough for all of the District to hear me. _

_I screamed when I saw the face of Shane Flemhoff standing over my grave. _

* * *

I sat up and screamed for real. I'm sure the entire train shuddered with the blood curdling squeal, but it was all so real, and I remembered it now, more than I ever had. That's when I lost it, lost my bit of memory, lost my legs. All because I was nosy and tripped down a flight of stairs.

I guess curiosity really did kill the cat, huh? And I sure did like Fluffy, too.

I needed someone right then. I wasn't sure why I needed someone so badly, but I did, I did desperately. I slid into my chair from the edge of the bed and rolled out of the room, just as sneakily and quietly as the night I lost my legs.

When I got to Dimitri's door I almost stopped myself from knocking. He was probably asleep, like I was. Instead of knocking, I just pushed one of the buttons and rolled in myself. Dimitri sat up in bed, starring at someone on a handheld device.

"What'cha watching, Dimi?" I asked. I scared him, making him jump, but he smiled softly when he saw it was me.

"No one's called me that in years, I don't think since Shane died – wait. I didn't mean – "

I smiled widely. "I gained memory," I exclaimed, rolling over and managing to lift myself onto his bed.

"What?" his eyes sparkled with hope. "Really? That's great, Anya!"

"I think I like Annie better than Anya."

"Annie? I can do that. Annie Flemhoff, the Wheel-Chaired extraordinaire."

"Ha-ha," I said sarcastically.

"Which one was it?" he asked, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

"It was in my dream. It was when we were three and Mom re-told us the story of how we got our names. Based after two animated characters, who could've guessed."

"No wonder I seem to be drawn to 2-D fruits."

"Oh, you're a comedic genius," I rolled my eyes and nudged him with my elbow. "Which was also the night Shane died. He was in the Games?"

Dimitri sighed. It was that kind of parental sigh, when you just know that it was a burden for them to explain but they would just for your sake. "Yeah," he said, running a hand through his curls. "Shane was fifteen, and he was incredibly immature. I still loved him though, don't get me wrong. But he wasn't ready for the Games. Mom had told him to do his best and to remember all that Dad had taught him. It wasn't enough, however. He died from Tracker-Jacker stings. Or so the Capitols say." Dimitri laughed smally. I couldn't bring myself to join him.

"Dimitri," I said, my voice low, "what will you do if I die?"

He seemed taken aback. "You're not going to die, Annie, you can get that out of your head right now."

"I know, I know, I know," I said hurriedly to avoid his lecture. "But if I _did _die, killed by the Careers or poison or dehydration or something, what would you do?"

"Well, I'd win. Just for you. I would kill every single one of those idiots that even came near you. I'd ask God to forgive me of my sins in doing so, as I am breaking a Commandment, but He is a Just God, and I'm sure He will forgive me." Dimitri smiled, and I did, too. He wanted to become a Youth Minister when we got out of High School. He dreamt of becoming the first pastor District Five had had since about thirty years ago, and about telling and letting everyone know that even though we were going through harsh times that God was with us and that it would all be all right in the end, because God wasn't going to end this story on a bad note.

He gave me hope, Dimitri did. He gave me Faith. And God gave me Dimitri.

"Okay." I yawned and laid on his pillow, having to use my elbows to push me to it. He smiled and lied beside me, covering us both with a blanket. I snuggled into him, and for once, I wasn't scared for morning to come.

I was waiting for it.

* * *

**_Hope you enjoyed! I don't own THG! :D_**

**_~Future_**

**_PS - God bless!_**


	4. All To Myself, Here Comes Feverent

The next morning Dimitri didn't hover over me and get me ready for the day. I figured that at some time during the night he had carried me back to my own room, as that was where I was. A small smile perched happily on my lips as I pushed myself upright into a sitting position, resting against the headboard. I stretched slightly, then reached down and rubbed my legs to get them going. It was weird how they felt today, as in the fact that I could feel my fingers lightly pressing down on them.

I found that a little strange, but took the covers off and slid into my chair anyway. It went much more gracefully this time. I rolled to the dressers and pulled them open, examining the clothes Dariya had brought for us. Today we were going to meet our mentor, Feverent, a fox-faced, shrew of a woman who smoked almost more than Dariya did. At least that's what Dariya had told us. Soon after we'd be at the building where we would train and get ready for the interviews and such. I wanted to look presentable, make a good impression on them; they were sure to be disappointed in me no matter what I looked like, why give them another reason?

Shuffling through them, I finally found a simple yellow cotton sundress which would fit my frame perfectly. I placed the dress on my bed, and leaned over the edge of my chair to grab a pair of boots that would match: they were brown cowboy boots. I took the socks I had on my feet off so I could use them later.

Once it was all on the bed, I rolled over to my own personal bathroom (so personal in fact that I was able to get my wheel chair in there with room to spare). A bath would be too hard to take without Dimitri. A shower was my only option.

I glanced inside of the shower. A small chair-like thing was installed to the right side of it, just big enough for me to sit on. Two bars were strategically placed so that I if I wanted to get in the shower, I was able to pull myself up and back down without much distress.

I was starting to wonder if this was a dream when I heard a knock on the door. "Annie?"

Me naked wasn't exactly something I wanted my brother seeing. "I'm um…I'm getting in the bath, Dimitri…" he would flip if he thought I was going to take a _shower._

"Oh, okay, um…" I imagined him rubbing the back of his neck in an awkward way. "Dariya just wanted me to tell you that – I guess I'll tell you later." He stalked away quickly, and I breathed a sigh of relief. That was good. Now I could shower in peace.

I grasped the bars tightly, praying to all that I knew that I could do it. And I did. I flung myself upward, eyes tightly closed, and found myself standing. I peaked an eye open, the startling height making me woozy and dizzy. I threw myself into the seat, thankful to have air back into my body and for the fuzzy-sprinkles leaving my eyes.

I searched around for a way to turn the water on, when I saw it. It was a small, touch-screen panel, with five options on it:

I smiled wide and pressed the shower button. More options popped up below it, and I selected a warm-moderate shower. The water sprang at me and the door closed itself automatically. It didn't even phase me as the seat started moving, swivling around until the water fell down my back. It was soothing, as if I had my own personal massuse. Running my hands through my hair, I let the water trickle in, soaking my entire being. Once that was completed, I reached over and pressed the "shampoo" option. Several popped up below that. I chose the Spring Time Memory, a pink looking substance coming out of a nosle in the wall. I rubbed it in my hair and washed it out, then chose a white-colored conditioner that was supposed to make my hair soft.

After I'd washed it out, the chair moved again so I was out of reach of the water and I clicked the "soap" option. Suddenly soap sprayed all over me, causing me to gasp. It was over as soon as It started, then my seat positioned back under the water so I could finish bathing.

I regretted to leave the warm water, but I knew that if I didn't I'd never meet Feverent and never make it to the Games. Maybe I should've stayed in there for the rest of my life, or until they made me get out and leave. That was a little too much to hope for, though, so I simply pressed the "off" setting and, once the seat replaced itself in between the bars, I grabbed them and put myself back in my chair.

I rolled to my bed, grabbing the clothes, and pulling them on. Once I had the dress on, I suddenly found myself thanking Dariya Wedroe. It hugged every curve I had in my body, and for once, I actually felt beautiful. I could only imagine what Dimitri and his protective self was going to do when he saw me in it, but I kept on rolling out and down the hall anyway.

I finally ended up in the kitchen-car, where Dariya sat, once again puffing on her cigarette.

"You're going to die of cancer one day," I said, ignoring her glare and picking up a warm, light-feeling bagel, and rubbing some cream cheese on it.

She took a breath in, and blew out smoke. "Death of cancer is the least of my problems," she muttered, reading the newspaper, nothing but a coffee in front of her, and a clean plate to the side. Who or what was she thinning up for? It's not like President Snow was going to ask her to marry him or anything.

I shrugged. "Suit yourself, but could you do us all a favor and smoke that somewhere else? If not yourself, you're going to kill the rest of us." Just to bite back, she sucked in another breath and blew the smoke right at me. I gave her a look that meant to read, "_Real mature,_" though I'm not sure if it did. I ate my bagel in silence, about to gag from her smoke, when Dimitri came in. He wore the clothes I guess Dariya had instructed him to wear; a pair of brown trousers and blue dress shirt, a little too similar to what he had worn on the day of the Reaping. The only sparking difference was the white shirt underneath, the fact that the shirt was unbuttoned, and he had new shoes. They were square-toed, and suited him nicely, black in color. It matched his hair.

"Annie?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. "When did you become Marilyn Monroe?" Marilyn was someone Mom had told us about, this actress who was around way back in the Golden Age. She always spoke of her fondly, as if that was someone of kin to us.

I laughed, taking a bite of my bagel. I swallowed before I spoke. "When did you become Leonardo DiCaprio?" He was an actor back in the Golden Age. If I recall, he got married to a girl named Kate Winslet in his early forties or something of that era.

Suffice to say, he was really liked by the ladies.

"About fourteen years to the day," he smiled and took a seat next to me, grabbing a biscuit smeared with butter. "I'm starved. Hope you don't mind me saying, Dariya, but that dress makes you look even lovelier than before."

She snarled at him from behind the smoke of her cigarette as he smirked. "Can it, kid. Feverent will be here any moment, and you better be presentable. If word gets out that I'm a smoker I'll – "

"Yeah, yeah, we know," I said, recalling the speech she had given before we went to bed last night when Dimitri had mentioned all the smoke in our rooms out loud. Something about being permanently fired and stuff like that, not that I understood why. People came in here looking like tramps and got away with it. Children got away with murder. People _cheered _at blood-shed of innocent kids.

Was smoking _really _the biggest of her worries?

"I thought most tributes met their mentor on the first day…?" I asked, thinking out loud.

"Usually they do," Dariya shrugged. "District Five has had two victors in the past few decades. The one you were _supposed _to have died just after the Reaping, leaving us with fru-fru Feverent. She was late because of some surgery she was attending, said she wouldn't be here until we stopped in District Two for fuel." The train slowly pulled to a stop, and weight shifted as if someone had just gotten on, not that they weighed much. Dariya put her cigarette out after one more final puff faster than I'd ever seen anyone move, and hid the buds and ashes.

I didn't know why she was freaking out. I mean, how bad could this Feverent be? Not too God-awful, I would imagine. She'd only won five years ago, so she'd still be young.

I wasn't suspecting what crashed through the door. Her hair was a glorious, almost on purpose mess, hanging in a low bun by her right ear, making me feel out of place with the simple braid I'd done up when I was out of the shower and had brushed my hair. She wore a long, dark-colored skirt and a blood-red shirt, and a pair of black flats dangled from her fingers. There was a small hump of hair at the crown of her head, pinned back with a black-pattened clip.

In other words, she was gorgeous. The dress meant nothing to me anymore, as she showed me up pretty well. Feverent sniffed the air and glared at Dariya.

"I thought we agreed you'd stop smoking?"

"Well, we, uh, we did, Feverent. It's just that, with the height of the new season of Games approaching, I'm trying to keep thin for the cameras, and you see smoking is the only way to – "

Feverent raised her hand. "I've heard enough. Keep it to a minimum while I'm here, would you? You'll be stuck with me for a long time, so I recommend stoping now and shoving a muffin in your face instead. Stupid cameras, stupid I say. Now, as for you two." She stopped short and looked at us both, skimming up and down our bodies. Then she smiled.

"Let me guess, play a little game for a moment here. Your father's dead, left the city, district, whatever, never came back. You were young. You," she pointed to Dimitri, and he pointed to himself questioningly. "Yes, you, genius. You took the role as man of the house and has been looking over spoilt brat over here for all of your life, am I correct?"

"I am _not _spoilt," I spat at her, crossing my arms in a huff. "Nor am I a brat. My name is Anastasia, call me Annie. Or whatever you like, I don't care. Give your attitude and adjustment, too, would you?"

Feverent's eye glowed with hate and malice as she walked towards me, getting right in my face, and I was glad that I remembered to brush my teeth. "You got something to say, sweetheart?" she asked threateningly.

I smiled slightly. "Yeah," I said, "I do." Then I spit in her face. She stood up and yelled in outrage, rubbing it off of her face with a wildly slapping hand. "Next time keep your fat mouth to yourself, got it?"

We glared at each other for some time after that, until finally her face broke out in a smile and she laughed, and it made me laugh, too. "I like you, kid," she said, and stuck her hand out. "Dr. Feverent John, age twenty-three, at your service." We shook hands like civilized people, leaving me to wonder what had just happened.

Was it really possible to make a friend that fast?

Suddenly the train jerked forward, sending Dimitri and Feverent colliding. They fell to the ground together, and didn't move until they were sure the train had started moving swiftly again.

"Sorry," Dimitri apologized.

"No problem, really." Feverent dusted herself off and smiled, offering her hand to pull him up. He took it, and then stood next to her.

"So, what's your name, kid?" She asked.

"Dimitri Flemhoff, son of Paul Flemhoff, an engineer for the city." Dimitri answered without a hitch, like we'd been trained to do. Mom said that it was quick, straight, and to the point so as not to confuse someone when they asked, as Dimitri was bad about going into a long rant and not shutting up until someone slapped him (I'd know from experience).

"And what do you plan to be when you grow up?" she asked sweetly.

Dimitri smiled widely. "Why, I'd like to be a preacher for District Five, and live in a part of the city where everyone from the entire District could reach me. I want them to know the word of God, you know?"

"How sweet." She rolled her eyes. "That's a really lovely dream, Dimitri, but let's be realistic for a sec here – what if you don't make it out of that Arena alive? What are you going to do then, huh?"

"Pray I get into Heaven," was his direct answer. I sat watching the two of them bicker back and forth before the train lurched again into a stop. She stared right at me.

"I'm going to give you some _real _good advice," she said, smiling. "Don't talk unless spoken to. If asked a question, keep it directly simple. And _don't _deny anything. Well, except maybe a haircut on you, Kit. Or makeup. I couldn't _stand _the makeup…here they come, your prep-teams. Remember what I said." Suddenly I was engulfed in a pool of people as they rolled me from the train to the Remake Center without a second thought.

The only thought I had was_ I hope they grabbed my back of essentials._

* * *

**_I don't own THG! Only my OC's. :) _**

**_Hope you enjoyed, God bless!_**

**_~Future_**


	5. I Can Stand?

"Would you _quit that_?" I felt like I was losing my mind. Five hours. Five hours of nothing but hair pulling and scrubbing. At one point I was afraid they would break my legs.

Equa rolled her eyes at me, continuing to tweeze the now absent hair on my upper lip. She was merely pinching skin now. "Would you _hold still_? Geez, kid, I'm almost done."

"Equa," a voice said from the doorway, causing her to whip around. My other two prep-team members, Graschia and Roody had been sitting in the corner of the room, talking about newspaper drable and my legs and magazines and such. Roody's hair was dyed and unnatural color of blue, and it shimmered like ocean water on top of glitter. His nails were hot pink and his clothes a blinding yellow spandex that looked like it came from the 1960's and 70's. Graschia was more simple, wearing a light blue dress. Of course, she had seventeen piercieings in her ears, and an extravagant collection of bracelets and necklaces.

The voice wasn't Roody or Graschia's, though. It was someone new; he had dark-chocolate skin, his hair a small afro-looking up-do. "That's enough," he continued, walking towards us, me more in particular.

"But Rae I – "

"That's _enough_, thank you, Equa." He shooed her off, and she left, grumbling obscenities pointed towards the both of us.

"Am I honestly _that _bad?" I asked, not exactly to him. He smiled kindly at me, brushing some of my wild hair back.

"Rust red," he muttered. "I can work with that. No makeup, no haircuts, yes, that will do nicely, I need your hair long for the outfits…how do you feel about sparkles?"

I tried not to make a face, and he nodded. "I see, I see. We can keep it on the dress then and throw light glitter in your hair. Don't worry, it'll wash out."

This guy wasn't answering my questions like I wanted him to, not that it insulted me. There was something different about how he carried himself, like he was above the Capitol. I wished I was strong enough to do that. But I had accepted my fate, why go against it?

"And it's that type of thinking that's going to get you killed," I muttered harshly.

"What was that?" Rae looked into my eyes. They were a startling blue against my calm and laid back green.

"Nothing," I stuttered, my cheeks flushing to the tone of my hair. He chuckled and went to a sink, washing his hands.

"Are you ready for the chariots?" he asked casually, coming over with a wet hand-towel, or rag. I shook my head. Of course I wasn't ready. If I was ready, then it would become real. And if it became real, I could never go back home with Mother.

He ran the rag over my face, cleaning gingerly against the edges Equa had pinched red with her tweezers. "I understand that as well, and I'm sorry for Equa's behavior. The Capitol has changed her so much since we've been here, it's almost uncanny."

I tried to bite my tongue. It didn't work. "Where did you move from? How did you get here?" He lifted the rag from my eyes and smiled into them.

"I came from District Twelve. Effie Trinket had a makeup and clothing emergency just before the Reaping. I, of course, didn't mind helping. Equa was my sister, my assistant as well. Effie was so impressed she called the Capitol and asked that we be stylists. Since District Twelve already had Cinna, they decided to place me here. That's where I've been since about five years ago."

"So I take it you've seen a lot of girls, huh? Many pass through and die?"

He nodded solemnly. "All except Feverent. That girl had this spunk, you know? She was gorgeous, and she knew it, and she was prepared and ready to win, even though I could see in her eyes how much she hated the thought of killing anyone, of appeasing the Capitol; a sparkle shown in her eyes, if you know what I mean. She was a leader. I have a feeling you will be, too." He shook his head and drew in a breath. "Let's continue on, shall we?" Quietly he draped the rag back over my features, outlining each one with a skilled hand.

Normally I felt so lost in the world. Even with Dimitri being protective and all, I never truly felt safe.

Rae, though, changed that.

A few minutes went buy as he messed with my hair, fingering through it like someone would do a book or magazine article. Then he sighed and put a hand on his face, smoothing what little hair he had back. "Ten minute break, make sure you tell Feverent that. I'll need to speak with her before the Chariots."

I nodded, and he picked me up, making my cheeks flush again. He set me in my chair, buckled me in so I wouldn't fall out, and told me how to get back up to our floor of the building.

"Thank you," I said for some odd reason. He bobbed his head slightly, telling me to go on. The elevator ride was short and quiet. Soft musing droned out of the speaker in the top. It made me feel home sick for those times when Mom would sing while she attempted to cook some extravagant meal, or when Dimitri used to sing me to sleep. It fueled my hatred of the Capitol even more. I was thankful to get out of there and push the wheels speedily to my room.

The mechanical doors opened, and I was about to go through a second set when Feverent cleared her throat behind me. I turned and examined the room. It was a nice lay out with a huge leather sofa and glass coffee table. A huge WSS, or wall screening system, something Mom would call a TV, was almost directly in front of the sofa. On the opposite side there was a grand kitchen with anything you could've wished for.

Mom would have loved that place.

"Feverent," I acknowledged. Dimitri stood beside her, and Dariya off to the side, quietly pulling out a cigarette from her purse and excusing herself from the room.

Feverent shook her head. "The nerve of that woman. Ten minute breaks for you, too, I suppose?" she asked. I nodded.

"Rae said he needs to see you before the chariots." I said. Feverent took on a new composure for a moment, becoming rigid, a little more unwelcoming than before.

"So I see. Well," she clasped her hands together. "We have something to discuss. I want you to tell me why you're in that chair."

Dimitri gave her a sideways glance. "I've already explained – "

"Shh," Feverent commanded softly. "Her side is just as important as yours, pretty boy. Do tell, kitten."

Her calling me 'kitten' burned me, but I let it slide. "Well, you see, I fell down this flight of stairs when I was three. So, my parents put me on this rolling cot and got our neighbors to help them push me to the train station, which was the only way to get to the Capitol in time. Apparently I bumped my head a lot, and my legs felt all tingly. Then we changed directions to a closer facility within town, and that's where they told me I had some leg disease and that I would never walk again and that my memory was impared."

Feverent knit her eyebrows and frowned at my legs. "And who did you say gave you this diagnosis?" She asked. Dariya came in right after that, Rae and Equa following behind as if they had some important news.

"It was some Capitol doctors we met on the way to the train station…" all eyes were on me, especially Dimitri's. I didn't know where this memory was coming from and I didn't plan to stop it. I wanted to hear it, too, to capture it and learn it, to have it, memorize it and never forget it again. Never let go of it. "And…and Mom was sure they weren't real, but they insisted and took us to that place, the closer facility. It was dark and smelled of rotten fish oil. They took me away and…that's all I can remember until they told my mother that I could no longer walk again, telling her to go buy a wheel-chair and hope for the best. And that my memory would be affected, too, for the rest of my life." I basically re-told her what I had said before with a little more detail.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I don't think I breathed at any point during that.

Feverent nodded passively, squatting down and feeling my legs. Dimitri lunged forward, but Feverent's hand stopped him. "Easy and calm, pretty boy, I'm not going to hurt her." She felt tenderly at my legs, and they tingled with joy, happy to feel someone's hands on them. I was starting to get freaked out when she looked up to me and then to Rae, Equa, and Dariya.

"Hold the boy back," she said, and in one quick sweep she knocked me out of my chair, yanking my leg to do so. I lied on the ground for a moment, then made a growling noise.

"What in God's name was that for?" I shouted, holding up my upper torso with my hands, finally resting back down on my elbows. "Well?" I asked after a few moments of quiet. "Put me back in!"

"Stand up and do it yourself, kitten." She leaned against the wall, her arms crossed, nothing but boredom on her face. Dariya stood beside her, smoking, but she quickly put it out after Feverent glared. "I've got all day, you've got ten minutes."

She unwrapped a stick of gum and stuck it in her mouth, chewing with her mouth closed, and I took this as a time to really study her. She was short and skinny for someone who had won the games. Long, thin brown hair framed her sharply edged face, which was a pure silky white. Average eyes sparkled with gold and hazel mixed. She had changed since I first left, and she stood there, wearing a green-and-black stripped shirt and a black skirt, complete with black, laced-up-to-the-knee boots.

"_Well_?" she mimicked, grimacing, staring at me. She blew a bubble. "Stand up and hop to it, bunny cat."

"I can't walk," I said quietly.

"What was that? Sorry, kid, but Dariya's silence is louder than you."

"I _said_ – "

"Uh-huh, what?"

"I said, _I can't walk_!" I screamed, and she smiled, as if proud of me. She clapped slightly.

"Brava, senioreta. Moo-ey grande and all that Mexican jazz from the Old Days." Feverent then popped another bubble. "Crawl over to the wall, yeah, were the window sill is. Now grab it, pull up one leg, and stand up."

I thought she was crazy. But I didn't want to stay on the floor for the rest of my life. I figured if I proved to her that I couldn't stand or walk, she would give up this act and help me back into the chair, apologize or something like that.

Crawling took me a minute, the carpet giving me a deep carpet burn, I could tell. I stopped just under the window pain, pushed up on my right arm, and threw my left into the air. My fingers just barely were able to skim the top of the sill. I kept on throwing my arm up there until they caught on the ledge, and I threw my other up there. Half of my body was hanging from the window and the other half was sprawled on the floor. It reminded me of the onetime Mom had taken us to the zoo, and we saw the lion that had fallen asleep halfway on and halfway off the rock. It had been so funny back then.

It wasn't funny now.

"Pull your legs in now, kitten." Feverent said.

I was beginning to wonder why Dimitri hadn't said a word. Then I noticed how Rae's strong hand was cupped over his mouth, the other pinning him against the wall. I saw tears in his eyes, and it made my heart break.

_For Dimitri,_ I thought. _For Dimitri. _Slowly, I dragged my legs underneath me, pulling up on the high ledge. I'm not sure how it happened, but the next thing I knew everyone's mouth was agape, including mine.

I was standing.

And I wasn't holding on to the windowsill.

* * *

_**Not exactly a cliffhanger, but hope it provides a little suspense. Explination will come along next chapter, promise, Di. :)**_

_**Hope you enjoyed, God bless!**_

_**~Future**_


	6. The Moon and the Stars

Her claps were steely and cold. Rae had dropped his hand from Dimitri's mouth, and Equa's eyes were wide.

"She _faked_!" Equa shouted. "Why, you dirty little _liar._"

"I didn't lie!" I hissed.

"Apparently you did. How else are you standing?"

Dimitri was still too shocked to say a word, though I desperately needed him to. Feverent seemed to get the message instead.

"She's not lying," she said. "I should know, Ms. Equa. I'm a doctor, which you would've known had you paid any attention to me five years ago instead of hitting on Callum. Almost got you knocked up, right?" Equa's cheeks flushed a fluorescent pink. "You had an abortion, am I correct? Never got the chance to tell Callum about the baby either. He died in the Games at the hands of Raeul. In desperate fear of what the Capitol would say, you killed it. Awfully slimy if you ask me."

Tears brimmed in Equa's eyes as she wrapped an arm around her abdomen. "How did you…?"

"Like I said – I'm a doctor. Now, if you'll _shut up _I'd be happy to give our no longer lame friend a _true _diagnosis." Feverent smiled at me, something that made her face even prettier than before. "There's nothing wrong with your legs, long story short. Those doctors from the Capitol you said? They're fakes, that's true. Looking for easy money. Sure, they might've done a little bit of study but never stayed long enough before drugs caught a hold of them. Nothing better than giving your good earned money to pot-heads, huh? Anyway, since they needed the money, they came up with the wrong diagnosis. Sure, it would've taken you a while to get back up to walking, as you did crack your femur, but other than that – wait a second, what am I saying? That scar's from a burn, not a bone. That definitely makes this more interesting."

I stared at her, almost stunned. Sometimes even I was unable to find that long-ago scar on my leg from some hot oil I'd been playing with.

"So, what is it?" Dimitri's eyes were pleading.

"It's a simple case of amnesia. Basically, you forgot how to walk. Nothing your memory couldn't have jogged for you had you been given therapy, which you obviously weren't. You can feel your legs, can't you?"

I nodded stiffly.

"My point exactly. When your memories started kicking back in – which was caused from the sudden adrenaline levels you're experiencing from fear of the Games – so did the feeling in your legs, or the memory recesses finally getting the message: Hello, idiots, you're free to move about the cabin, you know? So simple it's scary."

"And this means…?"

"You can walk, we've made that overly apparent."

"And my breathing, O'Wise Doctor Feverent?" I asked.

"Oh, that? You've been in that chair so long your immune system and repertory system are losing their steam. Nothing training won't cure. We'll have to do that in private, though, down in the basement. No one can know that sweet little Anastasia Flemhoff has legs."

"Imagine the headlines…" Dariya said wistfully. "It might even – "

"It won't get her _any _respectful sponsors, not that you would want to deal with, Dariya, nor I. This needs to stay a secret, do you hear me, child?"

She grasped my upper arms roughly, staring into my eyes. I nodded and gulped.

"It'll stay a secret." I said, my voice surprisingly strong. Rae glanced down at his watch and ran over to grab me.

"We've got three minutes, come on. I need to get you dressed. Equa," he glared at her. "Bring her chair and make it look nice, you understand?"

She blinked through her tears and nodded, walking to my chair as Rae helped me stumble back to the elevator. I felt like I was in a dream for a moment. Walking. I was walking. I was back to a walker.

For a moment, I wondered what Mom would say. I wondered how Shane would've felt. It made my heart sting to think about how Dad would be gone forever, believing I was lame. I wondered what Dimitri was thinking.

I wondered what the world would think.

Suddenly, I had more hatred for my District, for Panem. They would go wild for me, to be able to fight, to bring someone to their death. They would _enjoy _it. And my district, the district of power. How powerful were we, really? Not at all from what I could see.

"Suck in," Rae said, snapping me back to reality. "We hadn't planned to have you standing, so it'll be a little snug."

I nodded and sucked my stomach in as much as I could. He zipped it up, both of us releasing tension-filled breaths. Sweat trickled on his forehead as he quickly sat me down on a stool and brushed through my hair. It stood high on my head, a big, frizzy mess which only Rae could make look beautiful. He tapped his chin and examined me for a moment in the skin-tight black dress I was in. It was made of a Playtex-like material, stretchy like rubber but comfortable like silk. A slit that rose to my thigh was completely filled in with grey lace.

I didn't understand what in the world we were supposed to be. What did black and grey have to do with power? I kept my mouth shut, though, which I hadn't been too good at doing lately.

Finally, he set down the brush, stood me back up, and held me at arm's length.

"You're beautiful, gorgeous."

I felt myself blush.

Then his face tightened. "Come on, we've got to hurry – wait!" he stopped us mid-drag/run. "Equa, where's her chair?"

"Here," she snapped almost viciously, planting me down in it hard. It had a bit of décor on it, but nothing that really stood out as part of my outfit.

"Don't worry," Rae said, going behind me and pushing us forward in a hurriedly fashion. "I've got a plan for that."

I wondered for a moment if Rae was some kind of guru-genius who could read minds. That was the last clear thought I really had, though.

The loading docks were loud and crowded, people showing up in all forms of crazy outfits. And then I saw Dimitri.

For a moment, I thought it was someone else, perhaps a tan fisherman from district Four or a boy from Nine. But no. It was Dimitri, my Dimitri. Except a lot hotter.

It must be wrong to say that about one's older twin brother, but I couldn't deny it. He was hot. His hair trimmed back just enough to make it look suitable for the cameras, but still had the curly-cue feel that gave him a _Robert Pattinson _or _Taylor Launter _look. His tan skin seemed to glow against the long-sleeved black shirt and sparkling grey pants they had put him in. His eyes sparkled like crystal water. He was starting to get _seriously _hot.

_Snap out of it, Annie! _I slapped myself for good measure, and when I looked back to him, he was just my Dimitri again, standing there looking hopelessly lost and confused. Looking almost hurt.

He smiled when he caught my stare. "You look great," he said.

"Oh, please. It looks like a badger took nest in my hair."

He nodded slightly, cocking his head to the side. "Well, not if you just squint and pretend that it doesn't…"

"Haha."

"One minute," Rae glanced up from his watch to the big screen, then back down. Ads for all kinds of Capitol goodies were flashing across the screens, along with phone numbers. I could only imagine how much makeup and hair dye Effie Trinket was ordering right then.

"I'm sorry, for back there I mean," Dimitri apologized.

"What do you mean? What could you have been sorry for _this _time?" I didn't mean for it to come out so foully, but it did.

For once, Dimitri almost glared at me. I found myself reminiscing in it.

"I'm sorry for not being able to…to say anything. I was just in shock. You don't need me to pamper you, though. Come on." He walked over to the chariot, as if expecting me to follow.

I rolled myself that way, Rae keeping up behind. "Alright, here's my plan. We're going to have you stand – "

"Would that not just blow the entire secret?" I asked.

"You would think, but we've had this planned all along. We're going to have you stand, but looking like you're relying on Dimitri to help you get through. Even make some strained faces if you must, but make it look real. It will be a blow out for the Capitols, and should score you some less than sorry sponsors. If you know what I mean."

I could only find it in myself to nod. My throat felt dry and hoarse, like I couldn't breathe. My tongue was foreign in my mouth, an illegal alien that had to leave soon or I was going to shoot it.

"How are we going to get me up there inconspicuously?" The words came out slowly, carefully, each one making it harder and harder to breathe. It was real. It was all becoming real. I couldn't get on that chariot, not in my right mind. Ever. I just couldn't.

"We'll handle that. Thirty seconds. Grab my hand. Dimitri, climb up in the chariot and get ready to lift up your sister."

He nodded and hopped up without a hitch.

I grasped Rae's hand in mine. "You ready to get this over with?" He asked, our eyes staring intently into each other's. And I knew in that moment he was telling me something, relieving some burden from his chest. A ring on his left hand. There was a ring on Feverent.

"As I'll ever be." I replied, though it said so much more. A nod of understanding followed. He kissed my knuckles.

"Twenty seconds," Feverent said, appearing behind him. She grabbed my other hand, and together we somehow made it look like I was not even walking to the chariot. I saw so many confused and disgusted looks, especially from Two and a couple from Four. Twelve's were filled with the most pity. They didn't want to kill me.

I knew I wouldn't be able to kill them, either.

"Ready, Dimi?" Feverent asked. He nodded, and reached down as they lifted me up, just like they had the day before minus my chair. Slipping his hands under my shoulders, Dimitri started to pull up…

His hand slipped and I started to fall. A scream was barely able to escape my lips before I landed in a heap on the ground.

_Good job, good going, Mr. Cena…_ I thought. Suddenly my legs went tingly again, and I could feel nothing beneath them. Were they even there?

Rae and Feverent grabbed me faster than they had before, and made sure not to let go until they knew Dimitri had me. As he finished pulling me up, I started to put my numb leg underneath me. I collapsed again, this time on the floor of the chariot.

"Darn it!" Dimitri cursed under his breath. "Annie, you have to work with me." He said a moment later. The chariots ahead of us had already begun to move.

"I can't feel my legs," I said, hoping he'd get the message, which he clearly did.

He shook his head. "We'll deal with that in a minute. Just – just make it look…well, you know." Dimitri held me close to him, one arm around me in a side hug, the other gripping my hand to show that he would never let go of me.

The chariot lurched forward, and I had to hold on to Dimitri even harder to not topple over the front side.

"What happened," he whispered in my ear.

"I'm not sure," I whispered back as we pulled into the camera's view. The entire crowd erupted in some form of applause and laughter, cheering.

"Do you think the fall made the memory problems relapse?"

"I don't think about anything anymore," I answered truthfully, biting my lip nervously as they did a close up of our faces together.

It was only then that I realized what we were meant to be.

The moon and the stars.

* * *

_**So, what do the moon and stars have to do with power? Why are Annie's legs acting up again?**_

_**Oh, my twisted, indecisive mind. More info next chapter. :)**_

_**Hope you enjoyed, God bless!**_

_**~Future**_


	7. To Walk is to Die

I don't exactly know how Rae managed it. I'm just glad that he had.

A bright blue light consumed around us. The grey lace had taken on a new colour, representing that of a twinkling, yellowish star. The blue made the black take on a grey like texture. I was the stars. And he was the moon.

At first, it didn't make sense to me. Moon and stars? What did that have to do with power?

We did look amazing, which I guess was all that the Capitols cared about. They didn't care that sometime real soon we would all be dead, not wearing costumes and parading about for their enjoyment. They'd never see us again, and they wouldn't cry and reminisce in what had happened. No, of course not. They'd be too busy preparing for the next batch of us. Dreaming at night about what we would look like next year, who would be the next victor.

I wanted to throw up right about then. My nose scrunched, and dizziness set in, making me hold on tighter (if that was even possible) to Dimitri.

It might've been luck, but the camera caught on us right then, and it did look like I was in pain, like I needed Dimitri. I made the soft attempt to smile for them. The crowd's voices wrapped around us, licking us like flames. When they showed a close up of Dimitri's face, he did a sexy half-smile and nodded once with his eyes closed.

I was pretty sure he just killed all the young girls in the audience. Especially this one girl from seven. From behind us (as It showed her on the screens) her face was a scarlet red, and she looked ready to die, trying to hide a smile behind her tough-girl attitude.

Guess you'd have to be to chop down all the trees like a bloody maniac.

I couldn't tell what her hair colour was for the large head-piece her stylist had put on her, that represented something that looked like an ox-skull. What in the world did _that _have to do with District Seven?

"Annie," Dimitri's voice brought me back to reality, and I tried my best to look up to him.

"Yeah?"

"Whatever they ask up there…I just want you to know that I know you can do things for yourself, okay? And if I ever do too much for you, just let me know, and I'll leave you alone."

"What has gotten into you?" I asked, smiling. "This is definitely _not _the Dimitri I've known for fourteen years."

"Welcome to the new one," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

For once, I laughed.

* * *

The chariots stopped just outside of the television station, and before long they had all of us in a line up, ready for our turns. Rae, who had appeared beside the chariot as soon as we were there, helped to lower me back into my chair, which had the same wispy curtain-silk look as the outfits did, a glorious grey smoke that was decorated in glitter and collected like dust against my back.

"You looked great up there, just as I had planned. And the expressions…have you ever thought about becoming an actress, my dear?" Rae leaned around to see my face and he smiled, laughing inwardly. I didn't mention the fact that I honestly _couldn't _feel my legs.

Someone stopped Rae at the doorway, making him release me. I kept on rolling forward, not even looking back to see if he was okay. I had my mind on other things right then.

"Remember what I said," Dimitri whispered into my ear as we were all dismissed to our seats. My chair was missing, the hole not big enough for the wheel chair.

Have you ever felt like a sore thumb, big, bright and red, sticking out for everyone to see? That's what I was right then. A few girls from the upper districts broke into fitted laughter, though it was more like quiet snickers.

"Welcome!" a sudden voice shouted, and we all saw the face of Caesar Flickerman; a face I never wanted to see in person. His over bite was more horrendous than on the television screen, his face looked like over cooked bacon from all of his fake tans, and you could easily see all of the grease and gel he must have put in his hair that morning. His clothes were tight and revealing, as if he wanted us to see everything for all that it was worth.

It made me so sick I nearly gagged. I had to close my eyes to make the vision go away.

When I reopened my eyes, a young, bright girl had been called to the stage. Her hair was a brilliant blonde, and her dress was a frothy pink.

_How pretty, _I thought. She came from District One, a Career. She didn't look too strong.

Those were always the ones you had to watch out for.

I glanced to my left at Dimitri and nodded, silently telling him to add her to our watch and observe list.

Her smile was dazzling in the lights and cameras, and she kept waving and blowing kisses to the crowd. She laughed. "Hey, ya'll."

"Hello, Miss Shine. Tell us a little about yourself," Caesar smiled to the crowd, then back to Shine.

"Well," Shine sat up straight and brushed her hair back behind her ears. Her skin was a silky white and her face looked like Marilyn Monroe's. "I come from District One. I've got two sisters and two little brothers."

"Who are your siblings? Might we be seeing them at any future games?"

"My little brother and the sister just above me would be the only ones. Callie, my oldest sister, is twenty-two."

"Who's your other sister?"

"Glimmer."

"Shine and Glimmer, eh? I suppose your brothers' names are Diamond and Ruby?" The crowd laughed.

I didn't find anything funny about it.

"Well, yes, I guess…"

He asked her a few more questions, then she left the stage. It kept going on and on like this, until finally it was my turn. And I was scared, more nervous than anything I'd ever been through. Even school with Warren Splice.

I pushed my chair up, thinking that it would all feel so surreal to me. But it didn't. I'd never felt more alive than when that camera framed around my face, and people cheered for _me. _It was an experience I never wanted to forget.

That scared me.

"Ah, yes, Miss Anastasia." Caesar kissed my knuckles like so many people had done to me since I'd arrived in the Capitol. "You're so much prettier in person."

"I'm not pretty, trust me. A piece of toast could beat me in a beauty contest."

The people laughed, and I hadn't even meant for it to be a joke.

"He-he-he," Caesar's chuckled sounded like a moose and a mule crossed. "But here, let's get serious for a moment. I've a bit from the recap of the reaping. Mind if we show it?"

"Not at all," I answered.

The video flashed on a huge screen in front of us. The memory was shooting me in the heart repeatedly, reminding me of the day I knew I was destined to die.

The video took place when I was sitting on the stage, just as Warren Splice had been called. The camera caught my stare to Dimitri, showed my face and then Dimitri's, and caught my mouth as I shook my head slightly and whispered '_No_'.

'_I volunteer!' _Dimitri shouted. '_I volunteer as tribute.'_

"Your brother really loves you, doesn't he?" A tear had sprouted on my cheek and on his, though his were fake. Mine were real.

"Yeah," I nodded and wiped the tear away, hoping no one caught it. "He does."

"Would you say that you love your brother more than he loves you?" The picture of us on the chariots, me holding on to him for dear life and his small, smirk-like smile appeared on the screen. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the District Seven girl's cheeks go red again, and I smiled softly.

A girl had a crush on my brother whom she would probably kill. How priceless could that be?

"Don't pay me any compliments," I said, smiling truthfully. "I don't deserve them. Without him, I don't know where I'd be, probably dead by now. Whatever happens, we're in this together." I sent a glance his way just to spark arousement from the crowd. Once again I thought about how much his outfit complimented him, making his eyes shine like the moon he had represented.

"Of course you do, sweetheart. I must say, you're the most beautiful one here, am I right everyone?" The crowd nodded and applauded and whistled. They must have been joking.

"What part of me is beautiful…?" I whispered, glad Caesar hadn't heard me as he just continued on with his next question.

"So, Anastasia –"

"Please, call me Annie." I said distractedly, thinking of Mom. What would she be doing right now? Sitting there, crying over us? Worried sick? Was she starving? Overworked? I couldn't get her out of my head.

"Annie," Caesar let it sink in dramatically for a moment. Then it was over. "I must ask – what in the world does the _moon _and the _stars _have to do with District Five?"

"Well, it's the district of power," I said. "And the moon and stars represent what we are; the moon needs the sun to make light, and the stars need to the moon to shine. We are the providers, you see. Without us, there would be no such thing as the Games or the Capitol." I knew I had blown it right then, that President Snow was surely going to kill me. I didn't care, though. I didn't care at all. Let them kill me. If I was going to die anyway, right now right here, right now, where the entire world could see it ahead of time?

A buzzer sounded overhead, and Caesar seemed to have trouble forming the words. "It seems that we are out of time…" He grasped my hands and kissed my knuckles again, lifting my hand into the air. "Anastasia Flemhoff – The girl in the stars!"

They clapped again. And the tingling came again.

It went away after a moment and my legs were there again.

And in that moment I knew. I finally understood why I was here.

Just then, I stood from my chair and walked unto the stage. "My name is Anastasia Flemhoff. You're free to kill me now."

* * *

**_Huzzah, I attempted suspense! Did it work? :D_**

**_Hope you enjoy, God bless!_**

**_~Future_**


	8. Eyes Open Prt Uno

**_Well, HAWTgeek, you wanted a chapter, so here's your chapter. Like I said, I've botched all the plans, and I'm going with the flow. :)_**

**_Hope you enjoy, God bless!_**

**_~Future_**

* * *

_"My name is Anastasia Flemhoff. You're free to kill me now."_

_I closed my eyes and waited for the impact. _

_Two Hours Later_

"You _bloody idiot. _What were you _thinking_?" Dariya and Feverent had been ranting at me nonstop since we'd made it back to the hotel. I'd never heard any two women talk more, besides one of Mom's old friends I guess.

"She wasn't," Dariya said back, throwing her hands up in the air.

Feverent groaned and crashed into a chair, covering her face with her hand. "I need an Aspirin. ASAP."

Dariya glared at me sourly, and I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out. "I'm going out for a smoke. Anyone want to join me?" Taking out her cigarette pack, not even waiting for a response, she headed for the door, slamming it angrily.

"Five bucks says she finishes the pack in thirty minutes," I said.

"Ten," Rae said, rubbing Feverent's shoulders.

"Five," Feverent countered. "If that."

We didn't say much more after that.

Dimitri, who was sitting next to me on the couch, had said nothing the entire time. He sat wordlessly watching the television. Every station was doing a recap of my performance at the interviews. I never thought I could get so tired of seeing my face.

He paused on one station that was doing all of the interviews, or so it said. Instead it was just another newscast about me.

Dimitri didn't change it, though, and kept eyeing me steadily as it played through. He turned up the volume.

_"…and what a phenominal night it was!" _An announcer, Rook Springsteen, was saying. _"I mean, this poor little girl from District Five had us all fooled! Or was it just a miracle? Resources have said that she was diagnosed as "lame" some years ago, but aren't sure by whom. Investigators are still looking into it."_

_"But let's be serious, Rook, it took some real guts to get up there and do that! I've took a look at the recent bids, and this girl is going to get sponsors like **crazy**."_

Rook laughed. _"Alex, I can't wait to see how this turns out. A message from the big boys, though – we need to get back to the full recap. Let's pick up with her brother, shall we?"_

The image clicked over, now showing as Rae and Feverent had ran unto the stage and yanked me off. Right then, I wouldn't have cared if President Snow himself had shown up and shot me down. It just didn't matter anymore.

"What happened to _not saying anything_?" Feverent kept mumbling. "To _keeping it a secret_?"

"It was just a moment thing," I said defensively, trying to put my attention back on the TV. "It just felt right."

"You're crazy," her face twisted into a sarcastically amused look. "You – are – crazy." She started smiling and laughing.

Rae sighed. "Fev, I think it's time for bed…"

He trailed off as he helped her out of the chair, not that she needed it, and he steered her away.

"Why are you all so mad at me?" I asked Dimitri. He didn't respond, and we watched as he clambored on the stage, a smile that wasn't exactly welcoming playing on his face.

_Caesar flashed a smile, though it was tense. His face was flushed with anger, though he acted like it was too much blush, and he fanned it away. "My, my," he said, crossing his legs. "You and your sister are a double package, no? You're both gorgeous, aren't they gorgeous ladies and gentlemen?" _

_Dimitri laughed uneasily and rubbed his thighs when the crowd erupted in cheers and shouts. "Please, I don't really think…"_

_"Nonsense!" Caesar exclaimed, the picture of Dimitri's smirking half-smile appearing on the screen. The camera panned through all of the tributes, staying on the Seven girl, her cheeks ablaze yet again. "But, now, Dimitri, I think we need to get serious. I've heard rumors that you and Annie come from an estranged past. What was it, hmm? A mother's passing, a father's death?" _

_Dimitri's pained expression at the mention of "father" gave Caesar the answer. "Your father died?" he asked, though it was more of a statement. "What was it like, Dimitri? To be without a father so young?"_

_"It was…it was hard," Dimitri gulped and pulled at his collar. All of the girls in the audience swooned, and that's when enlightenment danced across his features. He could use this to his advantage and he knew it. I could tell by that devious smirk on his face. "It was hard, but I knew that I had to step up and be the man of the house, look after Annie and Mom, you know?" he smiled slyly and ran a hand through his hair. A girl screamed hysterically, shouting, "I love you Dimitri!" like a crazed fangirl. _

_"Quite," Caesar said to the girl, whose cheeks were blazing like Seven's. He looked back to Dimitri. "How long have you taken care of your sister?"_

_"For as long as I can remember." Then he made a somewhat pouty face. It was so fake it looked real. "I mean, well, not that long. She's strong, and she can take care of herself. It was just, when she lost the use of her legs and all, I felt like I had this duty to keep Dad's spirit alive, and he would've done everything that I do for Anastasia."_

_"Tell us about her legs."_

_Dimitri chuckled. "It's a funny story actually. You see, she actually just had amnesia, as a kind capitol doctor pointed out for us. She'd, basically, forgotten how to walk. That also explains how she stood up a minute ago; it was like a fire came alive inside of her, and she remembered. Now, where that comment came from…" he shrugged. "Who knows? We've eaten like kings since we've got here, and I think all of the sugar is going to her head. Then again, it might be all the perfumes and hair products they shoved on us." _

_The crowd laughed._

Dimitri shut the TV off. I was laughing beside him, watching it.

"I'm not mad," he said, though I could hear a trail of hurt in his voice. "I just want you to think some of this through. Quit acting on whims. Whims are going to get you killed."

He stood and stalked off without another word.

Training day.

I tried to sleep in, but Feverent knocked on my door at six in the morning, yelling at me to get my butt up. I wanted to ignore her, but I couldn't. I had to throw a book at the door before she'd shut up.

I didn't realize how mouthy I was until I was able to walk again, until I was thrown into the games. Where had this mouth been when I was up against Warren? When I was doubted? Alone, lost? Where was this girl who has seemed to spring out from nowhere?

_Who _is she, is the question I'd like answered.

I walked into the kitchen on our floor and took a seat next to Dimitri. He looked at me, then averted his gaze. Had I done something wrong? Oh, yeah, I stood up for myself. Literally.

I grabbed a roll and ate it halfheartedly. Took a sip of orange juice. Dariya nibbled on a bran muffin and Feverent stuffed herself with bacon and eggs and coffee. Dimitri munched on some dry toast with a smidge of jam, quietly drinking his milk from time to time.

Awkward. I'd made us all _awkward._

Good going, Anya. Good going.

"So," I said, grabbing a strip of bacon, "um, how does the training thing work, exactly?"

Feverent huffed and crossed her arms. I glared.

"Well, never mind, if it's such a burden to you," I snapped. "We'll just find out when we get there."

"I wasn't huffing at you!" she defending, rolling her eyes. "I'm just upset and frazzled, okay? This morning was awful for me, you hear?" Feverent rubbed her temples. "Nevertheless, when you two go down to the basement in about an hour, you'll have training stations. Anya, I want you to go to the loud mouth one first and – oh, that's right, you die if you have a loud mouth. They can't prepare you for that one."

I yanked the head of the bacon off viciously. I was hoping to intimidate her.

It only made her smile.

"Dimitri, you go for the ropes, the camo, and the weights. Anastasia, you need to try out the weapons: swords, hand guns, whatever they've got, you try. And the bow, too. You'll need it for hunting. Hand to hand combat will be useful for both of you, do it on each other if you like. I don't care. I'm going to go take a shower, now." She shoved herself backwards and left, her plate still half full.

"Oh, thank God," Dariya murmured, taking out her cigarettes and setting down the barely touched muffin. "I thought she'd never leave."

On her first puff of smoke I excused myself and went back to my room.

The shower was warm sunshine traveling down my back. It relieved all pressures, all thoughts. I felt so whole in the shower.

The roaring water, though, wasn't what I needed. I needed something peppy. Something fun, something to dance to.

Then I remembered the music option on the shower panel.

I pressed my finger and watched as a whole list of options popped up. I randomly clicked buttons, over and over again, until I landed on one I didn't mind. I hummed along to the tune. It was called _Generation Love_.

_Not generation lust, or generation greed. _

"President Snow must've missed the memo," I mumbled, closing my eyes. One hundred years. It hadn't been that long since this song came out; only seventy-three.

I scowled, rubbing the shampoo in my hair, throwing my hair up in a messy soap bun. It was longer than I had realized. That made me want to smile, but I couldn't bring myself to it.

When it ended, I searched around some more, the soap starting to leak into my eyes, until I clicked on one of Dimitri's favorites. _Awesome in this Place. _I had absolutely no idea who wrote it, but it was a great song, and brought a kind of disturbing peace over me.

Disturbing because of what I was going through. Was I supposed to feel this calm when I was so close to death?

A voice like a hushed whisper seemed to blow my hair back as it spoke. _Never look at things from your own perspective, _it seemed to say. _Remember Me, and all that I can do. You can do all things through Christ who strengthens you. _

"God?" I questioned.

The spirit vanished, as did the chilling yet warming wind. My spine still tingled, a million ants crawling up and down my back. Chill bumps decorated my arms.

I quickly finished shampooing and conditioning, and then got out of the tub.

I needed to consult Dimitri.

He might be able to help me straighten this out.

_One Hour Later_

The elevator ride reminded me of how much doom I was facing, but I kept a straight face. No fear. No turning back. Not with this crowd.

"Dimitri…" I whispered. He turned towards me slightly. "Can I…I need to talk to you about something."

"What?" he asked, worriedness in his features.

I almost told him. Then I realized who we were around. Feverent and Equa and Dariya and Rae might think I was crazy. They would. And they might think that my idea and my theory was nutty enough to be put in the looney bin. I shouldn't have cared.

I just couldn't risk it. _Later_, I signed.

He nodded and the elevator dinged open.

"Remember what I told you," Feverent said, and I caught the hint of a smile behind her eyes. _Good job_, she signed in sign language, and I held my mouth agape as she waved goodbye and the elevator doors closed.

So she was secretly proud?

This woman keeps getting weirder and weirder, I thought.

Walking out, I realized just how expansive the training room really was. Stations lined up for what seemed like miles; the place alone was two football fields, if not three. I hadn't seen a football field since…well, forever. Just in the movies.

Dimitri and I stayed side by side as we examined our competition. There was Shine, from District One, who had a sister named Glimmer, and two twin brothers named Ruby and Diamond.

They're parents must've been rich.

A few others were on my watch list, like the career, Jimmy, from two, and the fox-like girl from three.

Then one I was particularly interested with came walking our way, armor on, a helmet under her armpit. She had a dazzling white smile and rosey cheeks. Dimitri's hand went cold in mine, so I released it, and I realized he was shaking.

"Name's Beatrice," she smiled, "but call me Trisha," the brunette stuck her hand out, and smiled, causing Dimitri to stare like a puppy at her. "Yours?"

"I – I – I…"

"This," I smiled, shoving him closer, "is Dimitri. He's the oldest of the both of us."

"Oh," she smiled, "the volunteer. I've heard and read so much about you."

She whipped her head back, her hair flying behind her, and Dimitri melted beside me. She was flirting. Her cheeks were growing brighter, but she was having no problem talking to him, which I found to be amazing. I'd once liked a boy named Carter back in grade school. I couldn't talk to him to save my life, though I never blushed.

I nudged him with my elbow as she flashed another smile. _Talk to her, _I signed. He shook his head, just barely enough that she couldn't catch it but I could. _Yes. Now!_

He groaned and rubbed his temples, then stuck his hand out and shook hers. "Name's Dimitri," he said without a stutter. "Pleasure to meet you, Trisha." Then he tilted his head to the side. "Although, come to think of it, you seem more like a Weed-Whacker. From your interview and all."

I didn't think the girl's cheeks could get any brighter, but they did.

"Weed-Whacker. It's fitting." She cleared her throat. "Nice to meet you, Dimitri. Want to come and test out some of this hand to hand combat with me? It's pretty intense, so I don't know if an old softy like you could manage it…" she was smirking and suppressing a laugh, as was Dimitri.

"You're so on!" he exclaimed, and exchanged a soft glance with me.

"I'll be fine," I smiled. "Honest." I said after a moment of staring. Then he smiled and nodded his thanks, following behind Trisha.

And then it happened. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why, but there went my legs, turned to Jell-O for no reason at all. I managed to grab a water fountain before I toppled over or caught Dimitri's attention.

I had to get somewhere where it was quiet and I could reason things out. A place I could talk with the only person who I could even imagine to help me make sense out of things.

_One day it's here, _I thought bitterly, grasping the second water fountain that put me closer to the bathroom. Or was it a supply closet? I didn't care. I just needed somewhere. _The next day it's gone. _"Why, God, why?" I whispered between clenched teeth; my upper body was shaking uncontrollably, and I was teetering back and forth. I was going to fall. I was going to fall. _I was going to fall. _I just kept repeating that over and over in my mind. I could see it; my brother's embarrassed face, Trisha laughing, people looking at me disgustedly. It was going to happen. I was going to fall.

_Two seconds. I just need two seconds. _

It was like a magician doing a trick, or a genie speaking the words, "As you wish," and I had just enough balance to practically throw myself at the door and yank it open.

I toppled in, the door slamming shut behind me. I landed face first in a mop bucket, towels and rolls of toilet paper collapsing on my head. A broom fell and smacked my back. I almost wished there was water in the bucket that I could drown in.

My legs, once again useless, were turned at an odd angle, trapped by a cart and the trash can. My arms were an earthquake as I placed my hands on the sides of the mop bucket, trying to push up.

I've come to the realization that life just doesn't like me. The mop bucket decided to roll just as my head was into the air, causing me to crash and spread-eagle on the floor. If I ever got out of here, it would be a miracle.

I pulled my elbows underneath me, holding my head up again, hoping that the floor wouldn't decide to slip now. I brushed back a bit of hair that had fallen in my face, and I took a deep breath. _Baby steps. Baby steps. _

I tossed my arm behind me, searching, just praying that my fingertips could nudge the edge of the cart or trash can. They touched the cart first, and I shoved it to the left. That freed one of them. "Now to get to the can," I said, though it was more of a strangled grunt. I twisted and writhed on the floor until I was semi on my back and semi on my side. Both of my arms were barely long enough to reach it, but I didn't give up. I reached and reached and reached, and I finally managed to whack it aside with both hands, a muscle screaming with pain and heat in my shoulder blade.

I gave a gasp. _And I thought I'd felt pain before. _

This was worse than even when I toppled down the stairs so long ago, worse than any type of torture President Snow could've enveloped upon me.

Falling on my back, I gripped my shoulder with my free hand, biting my lip to keep from crying out. Pulled, ripped, torn, I didn't know what it was, but it hurt. The fire was unbearable. Tears had even begun to prick in my eyes, going down the sides of my face.

I was there but I wasn't there anymore. My mind was calm, saying, _At least your feet are free, at least your feet are free, _while my body and everything else was going numb except for my shoulder. I didn't come to for what seemed like hours, until there was a gentle knock and someone opened the door.

He, she, it, whatever, was whistling. They had blonde hair and their eyes were closed. Whoever it was kept walking in, until it stepped on my hand and I wailed. Then their eyes perked open, and the mouth made an "O".

It was a guy. He had blonde hair and sea-green eyes, pretty muscular, a light sprawl of freckles on his nose and cheeks. His smile would've been gorgeous, had there been one on his face. Square chin and jaw, slight worry lines on his forehead.

"Anastasia?" He asked.

I passed out before he landed on his knees next to me.


	9. Eyes Open prt Deux

_**Better than most, I hope? **_

_**God bless and enjoy!**_

_**~Future**_

* * *

I coughed and blinked, tasting something wet and cold on my lips. My vision slowly bubbled away from black, and I could make out the familiar face of someone I'd met a long time ago.

"Blondie?" I croaked. His thins lips gave a slight smile.

"Sure is, Princess," he leaned back on his haunches. "Long time no see."

"No kidding," I said, groaning inwardly. "Legs are back, no surprise…" I mumbled.

"Huh?"

"Nothing," I glanced down, pushing up with my elbows so I could lean back against the wall. "So," I said, "what're you doing in the Capitol?"

"Uncle invited me down for the Games. How awful, right?"

I nodded.

Blondie, AKA Brendon Chesser, was the biological nephew of, you guessed it, President Snow. At 6'2, one hundred fifty pounds of muscle and stunning good looks. His mom had that same sugar-blonde hair and sweet lips, while he got the chin, jaw, and mesmerizing eyes from his dad. The body, well, I guess that was something he just earned.

I wasn't all that surprised. Snow probably needed some positive feedback after last night, called up Blondie, and had him here by private jet by morning. He was a chick-magnet, and often some of the most famous stars came to visit and have interviews with the President.

Blondie was a native of District One, though his parents got married in Five. They lived there ever since, until a few months ago when his mom and dad got divorced, Snow forcing them back to district One. By that time he wasn't eligible for the games, so he didn't have to train. "Yeah," I said, "awful."

"What brings you down here?" He leaned against the adjacent wall, pulling his knees to his chest.

I gave him a dazed and uncomprehending expression, but his smirk let me know he was just asking to be polite.

"Must be crap to have to come here and be in the games," Blondie now took on the persona of a great friend I'd come to know and love.

"You can say that again."

"Who's that girl Dimitri's hanging out with?"

"Her name's Trisha," I said.

"Oh, the District Seven. You might want to watch out for her." My odd look kept him talking. "I mean, I'm not saying she's bad or anything, but those Sevens are almost as viscous as the Ones and Twos. Keep your eyes peeled, all right? I don't want to see little Dimi get hurt."

Dimi was like Blondie's long-lost little brother, and he treated him like such. When he left, Dimitri became the school's punching bag, now that his protector was gone.

My brother showed them just how troll-like he was, though, and put that to an end real quick.

Blondie and I had bonded in a different way. We were best friends, brother and sister, pals, and at one point I had had a crush on him, not that I'd admit it openly to anyone but maybe Mom.

"Will do."

"Hey, where's your chair?" He scrunched his dark eyebrows together, the worry lines deepening on his face.

"It's a long story," I sighed, knowing that it wasn't really all that long, I just didn't want to tell it.

"Aw, come on, Annie," he said, shoving my leg softly.

Just then another memory grabbed me.

I saw my brother, my other brother, Shane. Blondie stood next to him and they were shoving each other around playfully.

"_Stop shovin'_," a little voice said, and Shane rolled his eyes.

_Tell her this_, he signed, and Blondie nodded. _Aw, come on, Annie. We're just having fun._

Shane smiled as Blondie reiterated it, and the little voice suddenly showed up in the vision. Me. I was two. I ran up and I jumped in Shane's arms and he laughed merrily.

"Annie?" Blondie snapped his fingers in front of my nose, and I blinked slowly.

"You…" my mouth had trouble forming the words. "You were Shane's best friend?" I asked.

It came out as a statement.

Blondie's face and eyes went rigid, and he stared off in another direction.

"Yeah."

"But I thought…"

"That's what your mother wanted you to think, that I was just a family friend, that our parents had known each other in high school. Anne, she was still trying to get over his death when your amnesia hit, okay? She wanted to…to…" he groaned. "I just don't know how to explain it."

"She wanted to pretend that he never existed," I said.

Blondie nodded.

"Why?"

"She…she was tired of being hurt, Anastasia. And she thought that, well, just maybe if you could forget, then she could, too. She didn't want to forget, but she could only move on if she did."

A weird metallic taste was in my mouth. Melancholy? Regret? Anger?

"Now," he said after a moment passed, "where's your chair?"

I couldn't help but smile when he blew his face out like a puffer fish and pulled on his ears to make him look like Dumbo.

"It's a long story," I said again, though I droned it out. "But I don't mind telling a friend."

* * *

**_Trisha's POV:_**

I blew my hair back out of my eyes, holding the bow steady in my hands. I squinted, aimed, and fired. "Shoot!" I screamed in outrage as it missed _again._

Dimitri laughed beside me. "Look, you're holding it all wrong," he said after I glared at him for a solid minute. He picked the bow up off the ground and held it in place, totally different than how I had been holding it. The string wasn't shaking at all. The quiver was perched just right. He held his eyes all the way open, pulled back, and fired.

The arrow lodged itself in the center of the target, and Dimitri blew off the tip of the bow as if it were a gun. I rolled my eyes, an unusual smile playing on my lips. I wasn't an unhappy person, even though I'd been given plenty enough reasons to be. My mother was drug dealer back in District Seven, my father was a dead beat, and I had had to drop out of school just to make sure my little sister Tabitha survived. It wasn't a bad job at the factory, but it should have paid better. A dollar seventy a day was all we got, and I worked eight hours. Then again, when you're in a poor District, you'll take whatever you can get, plus, even though I hate to admit it, Mom's drug money came in good handy with buying pork and rice and broths and other things. You'd be surprised at how many people rely on drugs back home.

"Show me?" I asked, biting the tip of my thumb. I'd ran out of nail an hour ago.

"Sure," he handed me the bow and stood beside me so that our bodies were mashed together, and I prayed in my mind that I had remembered to put on deodorant this morning. He grabbed my hand and placed it over where it should be, wrapping his other arm around my shoulder so he could reach the other hand. Once it was fixed up just like it should be, Dimitri rested his head on my shoulder, moving the bow to show me how to aim just right.

"In three, two, one," he smiled and we released the arrow, watching as it zipped all the way to the bullseye.

I didn't know why I got so excited, but I jumped and wrapped Dimitri in a hug, shouting, "Whoo-hoo!" at the top of my lungs. We got many stares, but I didn't care. I'd shot the arrow into the marker.

With a hot guy's help of course.

"Ready for that hand-to-hand combat? I think the careers finally left that station," Dimitri suggested nervously, patting the sides of his jeans. He was nervous. He didn't like attention.

I put that down in my mental notes.

"Sure," I smiled, laying the bow on the table next to the other weapons, when a certain glint caught my eye. A dagger. _Could be helpful. _I thought, reaching for it, but something held me back.

Not now.

"You coming?" Dimitri asked.

I nodded and set my hand back down to my side, jogging over to join him. He put on his gear, saving the helmet for last.

My heart was past the point of melting. It was bubbling from the heat.

**_Dotdotdotdotdotdotdot_**

"Oh, no you don't!" I yelled, putting him in a choke-hold. We'd been at this for the past twenty minutes, though it may have been two hours, I wasn't sure. I just know that most of the time we were neck and neck with each other. If I got the upper hand first, he got the next one. I punch him, he punches me. I knee him in his nuts, he counteracts with a slap to the face. I kick the back of his leg and knock him to the ground, he grabs me by my waist and flips me over his head.

We were laughing, though, enjoy every kick, every hit. It wasn't fighting, it was playing. A sparkle shown in Dimitri's eyes, twinkled with something I'd never seen before.

Innocence. He was so innocent, so childlike. He'd never experienced true sorrow, true pain and hurt. He didn't know that world that I'd come from. He was just Dimitri, the boy with a soul, and me, the girl with the dream.

I found myself wanting to be part of that soul, to be free, innocent.

Shows you how big of a dreamer I am.

"Child's play!" Dimitri laughed, catching me off guard and grabbing my arm and twisting it backwards. Then he wrapped a leg around my waist, pulling me down, and I couldn't help but explode with chortling as he crashed down too, and we became a tangled mass of limbs and skin.

Breathing heavily, we began to untangle, Dimitri's head bumping into mine as we moved our legs. We grabbed our foreheads at the same time.

"Sorry," he said, panting.

"No – prob," I replied, fanning myself, hoping the red would go away. "Do they have any water in this place?"

"None that's good," Carter Zoone, the boy tribute from Seven, said, smirking. "It tastes like saw dust that's been rubbed raw, if you can imagine that."

Sadly, I could. That didn't sound anything like the Baked Alaska I'd been expecting.

"Better than nothing," Dimitri stood and held his hand out to me, giving that sexy half-smirk without even meaning to. It just came naturally to him I guess.

I gripped his hand, pulling myself up, and we walked together to the water fountains. I flipped my hair behind my back, holding it up as I bent down to get a sip.

"Let me," Dimitri said, taking the hair from me. Was he making a move? Or was he just being nice? It was hard to tell with him. He was like an onion; you had to peel him back a layer at a time.

_Unless you use a knife, _I thought, straightening up. "Your turn," I smiled and gripped the small bit of curly hair he had sticking up on his head, and he grinned in return, taking a drink, when I noticed something. There was a small trail of blood leading from the fountains to the janitor's closet.

"What'cha looking at?" Dimitri asked, wiping the water off of his upper lip with the back of his hand. I could only point, and we followed it with our eyes.

Fear gripped in me, and in him, as well.

"Where's Anastasia?" he asked, not to me, not to anyone, just outloud, scanning the entire arena. With not a glance, he dashed to the closet and yanked the door open.

He bit back a scream.


	10. From Nosebleeds to a Change of Plans

**_Awgh, HAWTgeek I've failed you. This story is not nearly as good as The Jabberjay or No One Will Cry. *sigh* Is it getting better, though? I hope so. I think I'm starting to draw it back in to where I need it. :) Hayway, here it is!_**

**_I don't own THG, hope you enjoy, God bless!_**

**_PS - meh luffly HAWTgeek also helped this chapter, not only in inspiration, but in back story. :)_**

**_~Future_**

**_PSS - HAWTgeek - I read what that awful anon said on The Jabberjay. I WILL GET THEM AJH:KJHKJRHKJR:H:KHEJ:KJKRJHJRKNKENR:BKEJJKHR:KNKJ:R They are a douchebag. That is all. :)_**

* * *

_**Anastasia's POV:**_

Don't ask me how it happened. It just did.

One minute we were laughing, cutting up, acting like the crazy friends that we were, and the next second his nose was bleeding.

Blondie had always had this condition of chronic nosebleeds, and sometimes they were so horrible you could soak an entire sheet with the fowl liquid. Much like the turning on of a faucet, his nose would just start spraying.

When it happened in the janitor's closet, it started as a trickle that neither of us noticed. A few seconds went by, and it started pouring, dripping on his pants. A minute passed, and we'd already used a whole two rolls of toilet paper. It got so bad that it was leaking through a thick clot of tissue, and we were both stuck catching it with our hands.

What's funny, though, is that we couldn't stop laughing about it when it finally ended, not long after it had started, as we laid there, both drenched in blood from head to toe.

"I thought you took medicine to clear that up?" I said, wiping some I'd smeared to my forehead with the back of my hand. I only made it worse. The tips of my bangs were matted with it.

He shrugged, smiling sheepishly. "I forget to take it from time to time."

"Like your _other _pills?" I smirked. "I always knew they needed to put you on some stronger meds."

Blondie rolled his eyes, "Ha-ha." He crossed his arms over his long-sleeved shirt, his hair falling a bit into his eyes.

"I've really missed hanging out like this. It's just not the same in District One anymore. Times are changing, and they're changing fast."

He seemed to be hiding something, calculating things behind his dark eyes. "You hear a lot of things in politics," he continued, searching the wall, staring intently, lost in another world. "Especially if you're around the heads. There's talk of rebels and wars, no more peace to the Districts. They say it's going to go down before we even get to the 74th Games."

"There's always been talk of rebels and wars," I said distractedly. "There's always been rebels…" I sounded like I was trying to convince myself, of what I had no clue. Did I really not want this to change? I'd never been a fan of change, and this was all I had ever known. I despised the Capitol, sure I did, but to think that we could merely take them over in a year or two?

My head was swimming with ideas and theories. The Capitol always won, they always had. But rebels? Wars?

I don't know why I found it so unimaginable, but Blondie broke me from my trance as he stood and wiped a bit of blood off of his nose. "I'm going to grab a sip of water and wash my hands off," he said, some wet blood still leaking from his hands. I watched him walk away, closing the door softly behind him, almost as if he were afraid of being seen. Or maybe he was protecting me. I never knew anymore.

Sitting there, I tapped my finger against my thigh. "And what have we learned today, Anastasia?" I asked myself, brushing my hair back behind my ear. Shane's best friend is my best friend. Blondie's nosebleed meds need to be upped. He makes me laugh like no one else can. He's nineteen, or eighteen and a half. His parents are still good friends even though they're divorced, and he thinks that they'll get back together in a year or so.

Oh, and my brother can scream louder than any woman on the face of the earth.

I guess he freaked out when he walked in, saw me covered in blood and blood on the floor, with my eyes closed and my body limp against the wall as I thought about everything and everybody. In an instant, I was flocked by Trisha and Dimitri, and about half a dozen others who decided to come see what the fuss was about.

"Dimitri!" I shouted when he started checking me everywhere, searching to see if I had any visible damage.

I kept saying it over and over again, getting no response as he practically tore my shirt off in front of everyone.

"DI-MI-TRI!" I finally yelled syllable for syllable, and he glared at me.

"What?" he screeched.

I slapped his hands away. "You're stripping me naked in front of half our competition. I'm _fine_. Blondie had a nosebleed and – "

"What?" he stuttered. "Blondie's here?"

That shows you just how fast the subject could change, and boy was I thanking God in Heaven above that it had.

"Yes," I nodded, and people dispersed, losing interest. I was happy about that, too. They would still remember though. Years from now, they would remember me and laugh and –

What am I saying? We're all going to die, only one of us can live. What am I saying?

"Where is he?"

"Bathroom."

"But the blood trail…"

"Leads to the fountain? Yeah, he took a sip of water before going to wash off."

"Annie? You okay? I heard this shrill woman's scream in the bathroom and…"

_Speak of the devil, _I thought.

"Yeah. It seems your blood leaked from here to the sinks," I said nonchalantly, looking at myself from head to toe. "I think I'm going to go clean up now. Dariya would have a fit if I left and stained the carpets with Blondie blood."

They all managed a tight smile, when Trisha perked up.

"I'll go with. To help out and stuff," she added when gave an odd cast by my brother and Blondie. She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Anastasia," grabbing her offered hand, I lifted myself up and brushed off the non-exsistant dust, and followed her from the room.

"So, you're brother's told me a lot about you."

I tried to keep my cool as she helped to clean off my shoes, the same pair Dimitri had bought me the day of the reaping. I realized just how much I had grown up since then. I was no longer that helpless fourteen year old in the wheel chair. No, I was Anastasia Flemhoff, the girl in the stars. The smart-mouth. The girl who doesn't know what she's got to lose until she's already lost it. The one who knows true pain, the one trying to find understanding.

"Yeah, he does that sometimes," I tried for a smile, but it just wasn't happening. My mind was in another world.

"He says you like the cinema. Ever been to a premiere?"

I snorted. "You're kidding, right?"

She shook her head, and I sighed. "When our mother is actually off of work, we usually don't do anything but hang around the house with each other. Other than that, it's always Dimi and I to school, back home, Dimitri changes for work and kisses me goodbye, leaves, Mom gets home, we share half a sandwhich, she sleeps off work for an hour or two, Dimitri comes home, Mom leaves again for her second shift, she comes back the next morning to see us off."

She almost laughed. "You have a pretty crazy schedule, huh?"

"No kidding," I said, chuckling.

"How is she? Your mom, I mean."

"Now?" I hadn't even considered it. "I'm not sure. Probably worried sick, not sleeping at all. She might be eating, maybe. Without Dimitri's extra income, she can, most likely, only afford a couple cans of soup, maybe some bread. We don't have good jobs for under-college graduates."

She nodded her understanding.

"So, your brother, he's the man of the house?"

"Yep. I don't suppose he mentioned Dad or Shane, did he?"

Trisha shook her head, and I could see the curiosity in the way her mouth twisted.

I almost laughed at it, but now wasn't the time for humor. I went into the story, starting with Shane. She gasped a little when I mentioned how he had died in the Games from Tracker-Jackers.

"I'm sorry," she said when I was finished with the first half. I just simply nodded, walking into a stall and stripping off my shirt. She passed in the extra gym clothes from her bag when she saw my bottoms hit the floor.

"Thanks," I said, pulling them on. Her frame was a bit bigger than mine, though she was leaner, causing the clothes to sag. _I wish I was taller, _I thought, examining them. It was a tight fitting pastel-coloured jump suit, though the bottom had been burnt off, making it wear like a skirt.

"What happened to it?" I asked, a general question, though to me it sounded snobbish and disgusted. I walked out and she tried to hold back her smile.

"Well, you see, my mom is a drug dealer. We had this stored in my closet, and one day when she was mixing up some meth – I was at school – it exploded. Our whole house was ruined. I kept it, though, and it seems I was wise to do so. You look great."

"Don't lie," I teased myself.

"You don't give yourself enough credit," she said, tossing the old clothes in the trash can. "Caesar was right. You're gorgeous."

"Don't waste your breath," I said. "I'm nothing short of butt-ugly."

Trisha smiled softly and rolled her eyes, looking so mature. Right then, I blurted out something I'd been wondering.

"How old are you?"

"Truthfully?" she sighed. "I'm twelve. I'll be thirteen about halfway through the Arena period."

I held my mouth agape, amazed. "You're so tall," I said, "I thought you were like seventeen or something."

She laughed, a nice, loud laugh that would make even the most unhappy person in the world laugh with her. That might've been me.

"Everyone thinks that!" she exclaimed, still holding her stomach. "Even my mother one time thought I was heading to college that next fall. I had to explain to her that I was only entering eighth grade. No surprise, really."

Her face changed faster than any of my moods. She now looked downcast and upset. "And my father, a hopeless drunk. I work two jobs, dropped out of school just to make sure my sister Tabitha made it through the second grade. And now look at me. She's probably having to beg people for lunch money, or maybe she just decided to quit school. I bet she hasn't eaten in days. I wish _ was still alive. He would be there, I just know he would…"

This threw me for a loop. "Your what? Your brother? What happened?" Man, was I a nosy Nellie or what?

She must not have minded, because she kept talking. "We were young, Tabby was only three at the time. We were building her a tree house. At that point, Mom still stuck to only drinking, no drugs, and Dad actually had a part time job at the factory manufacturing pencils. My brother had already dropped out to get a job and make sure we had food to eat, and I knew that I wasn't far behind him. So, I stood, holding the nails as he hammered them in, and he went for another piece of wood. I noticed that the axe we had was rusted and wobbly, and I told him not to use it, that I'd grab the one Dad had hidden but I knew where it was. He shook his head, said it would be fine, but I left to go get it anyway. I wish I hadn't, God I wish I hadn't!" She was panting and her face was red, with anger or sadness I couldn't tell. "And…and it just happened. I was coming around the bend of the house, swinging it, whistling some song Mom used to sing us to sleep with before she became an alcoholic, and it happened." She paused, took in a shaky breath, and looked me hard in the eyes. "The blade flew off the handle, hit him square between the eyes. He didn't even have time to scream. His eyes rolled back into his head, and I knew he was gone. Tabby had been watching, but she didn't understand. She just thought he was taking a nap, at least that's what I told her. As soon as Mom found out – well, that's where the drugs started, and the day after his funeral she was arrested for the selling and possession of drugs. Guess I come from a rough past, huh?"

She trusted me enough to tell me all of that. Trisha gave a small smile. "You would've liked my brother. You two are two of a kind." I grinned.

"Sadly, I doubt he was this good looking," I said, gesturing to myself, and she laughed.

"Thanks for listening to that," she told me as we left the bathroom.

I shrugged. "No problem. You might want to tell Dimitri, though. He'll hate my guts if you don't and I don't, either."

She nodded. "I haven't told anyone that. Only my family knew. I didn't really have a best friend back in Seven. Thanks."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Dimitri asked for the ten millionth time as we went up the elevator for dinner. I'd managed to get a little bit of training in before it was over and time to go. I hadn't eaten lunch, but instead made a list of people we'd want and people we didn't.

"I'm fine, I promise," I assured again, stepping out unto our floor, happy to be back in a place that I could almost call home. It felt like one, in a weird, undesignated way.

I almost shouted, "Dairy, I'm home!", but decided not to. It wasn't the time or place for that. Everyone was still pretty sore from my act last night.

Walking to the sofa, I collapsed on it and closed my eyes. I was insanely tired, and I didn't know why. Dimitri walked past me, "Hey, you coming to dinner?"

I shrugged, my eyes still closed. My stomach rumbled, but I ignored it. "Don't think I will…" I mumbled. "Sleep instead."

He nodded and walked off, and I was drug into slumber almost immediately.

My dream wasn't all that pleasant.

_Choo-choo!_

_The train roared into the station, filling it with life, and I begged him not to go. He sadly shoved me off into my mother's arms and shook his head when I started to cry. _

_"Annie," he said. "You know you can't come to the shop with me. It's too dangerous."_

_"Annie help!" I insisted. "Annie help real good, Daddy, please." I reached my little chubby arms out. He shook his head again. I wasn't in my wheel chair at the time; it was still in the process of being ordered. Instead Mom or our close friend Daniel carried me around everywhere or left me at home. _

_"No," he said again. _

_"Somethin' bad gonna happen!" I protested. "Annie be there, Annie can help!"_

_Dad shook his head and got on the train, blowing me a kiss as he did, and I felt tears in my eyes, saw them in his. He waved goodbye and the train sped off. _

_The dream left us, Mom, Dimitri and I standing there, and followed the train on fast forward all the way to the power plant. Dad stood in his lab coat, handling deadly chemicals. He was studying it intently, and by studying the notes as the dream flew by, I could tell it was something top secret. His scrawled handwriting was difficult to read, but I just knew something bad was about to happen. _

_Suddenly, the building shook and troopers stormed in. No, not troopers, scientists. "Get out!" they yelled. "Get out, the buildings collapsing! Get out, get out!"_

_None of them made it. _

_The building shook and ravenged until it finally crashed down and the dream faded into a cloudy just-before scene, in the Capitol. President Snow stood, regal looking, and nodded to someone to his right, who pressed a button. The dream traveled with the button to the power plant's main chemical system, a bubbling tower of nothing but green sludge that reaked often._

_It then went back to the debris, my father's notebook sticking up, and President Snow himself bending down and picking it up. He flipped through it, nodded, and steely walked back to his limo, falsely limping on his "messed up" leg, leaning on his cane for support. He wasn't that old, everyone knew it, but it sure did help in voters. The sympathy card. _

_I noticed that an edge of the notebook had been burned, a piece of paper still flapping in the wind. Caught on a sudden spur, it flew towards my point of view of the dream, and I could just feel that there was something about it far more important than was realized. President Snow snatched it out of the air, examined it, nodded and tucked it safely in his coat pocket before walking on. _

**_Go. _**_Something, some**one** said in the dream. **Go and get that paper. **_

_Suddenly, President Snow whipped around and looked me directly in the eyes, glaring, shooting fear deep into the pit of my stomach. _

_"I'll get you, too," he mouthed. _

I awoke to Dimitri shaking me. It was ten that night, and I was drenched in sweat.

"Dimitri?" I squeaked, resisting the urge to throw my arms around his neck and beg him to carry me to bed.

I wasn't very good at restraining myself. I did it anyway, and one look told him how frightened I was. Slowly, he picked me up, happy to actually have to strain, which made me feel bad but good at the same time. I was gaining muscle, I was eating more.

But that also meant I was getting fatter.

I was still a girl, so I still had those cliché girly thoughts, and it's not that I feared getting fat because I knew I would still be me. I was still as self-conscious as any other teen, though.

"What happened?" he asked. "I thought for sure you'd go to bed before you fell asleep."

"Sorry," I wasn't really sorry, but I was still pale and shaking. "I had a nightmare," I said.

"What kind?" he asked gently, opening my door with a press of his thumb.

"The scary kind, duh," I smirked and he threw me on the bed. I bit back a laugh.

"No, I mean, what went on in it?"

"Well…it was President Snow and…" I told him the dream, and he sat there in my wheel chair and listened. At the end, I bit my lip. There was something else I wanted to tell him, about what Blondie and I had discussed in the broom closet.

"Dimitri…" I trailed off and stared out the window at all of the bright lights and busy, buzzing streets. I might have been in awe had we not been here for the games.

And had I not had this crazy plan.

Snow was right; he was going to get me. And sooner than he thought.

I ran a hand through my wavy tufts of curls, and looked at my brother. We weren't safe enough in here. We'd have to go somewhere different.

"Come with me," I said, standing and opening the door with a flick of the wrist.

"What?" He asked, astonished.

"Just come with me."

"Why?"

"Please just come on!"

"No, I'm not leaving until you tell me why."

I groaned. "Dimitri, this is important. Bring you Bible," I commanded, stalking down the hallway.

I knew he wouldn't object when I mentioned the Bible. I was a Pentecostal, as we all were in my family. But for some reason I had a hard time reading the Bible. I guess it was because I just didn't understand how anyone as glorious as God would let us humans get to this point.

I was ready to change that, though.

I was also ready to make a change of plans.

Once we were in the room with the door tightly shut, I looked at Dimitri hard in the eyes, stared him down. "Dimitri," I said, "tomorrow morning I'm leaving the hotel. And I'm going to see President Snow."

I think my brother's heart stopped as he dropped his Bible to the ground with a sickening, lethal _thud_.


	11. I Don't Even Know What Happened

_**...**_

_**So, I've got no idea what happened during this chapter. I was just writing and imagining and then - BOOM. This happened. What'cha think, HAWTgeek? Pres. Snow meeting, by the way, will be next chapter, praise God. :)**_

_**God bless, love and cheetos!**_

_**~Future**_

* * *

"Ready?" Blondie asked, straightening my jacket as we traveled down the elevator at five AM that next morning.

Dimitri hadn't taken what I'd said well. He hadn't taken the plan well. He begged me to stay. But I couldn't. I had to do this. I had to set the record straight. If I didn't, then who would?

I nodded, biting my lip again to keep from saying what I was really thinking. No, I wasn't ready. Who could be? I was going to see the man who could easily decide my death and kill me in a moment's notice.

"You sure?" I nodded again, avoiding his glare.

"Annie," he grabbed my shoulders and stood in front of me, staring hard into my eyes, unlocking every secret.

"I'll be fine," I insisted, pushing around him as the elevator dinged open and I walked outside, ignoring the look the guards gave us as we made our way out. Blondie flashed a completely false ID, forcing them to let us through.

Blondie opened the door of his personal limo (turns out being the President's nephew came with a few excellent perks) and allowed me inside. I scooted as far as I could to the opposite window, and he sat down next to me.

I was bouncing in my seat, clenching my hands together as the car began to move. I bit my lip so hard I thought I tasted blood.

He grabbed my hand, catching me by surprise and I swiveled to look at him. "Calm down," he said, holding my hand away from the other. "It's going to be fine."

"But what if it isn't?" I asked. "What if he doesn't agree? What, what if he kills us both? What if – "

"What if, what if, what if. They're just _ifs _Anastasia. They're things that _could _happen. They aren't guaranteed. Okay?"

I gulped and nodded.

"Now, pull yourself together. Don't you know what good a rep I've got around here?"

I slapped him, laughing.

"I mean, if I walk you into the mansion with you all bouncing around, looking like you're about to pee yourself, and let's say some famous movie star sees me and – "

I cupped my hand over his mouth.

It was funny, sure.

I just wasn't in the mood for funny.

"Tell me something," he said, glaring playfully and tossing my limp hand to the side. "What's up with you and the chair and the 'oh look I can walk now' thing? I know you explained before, but, with the nosebleed and all…"

I ran and hand through my hair, getting my fingers caught because it was in a tight braid at the nap of my neck.

"Let's just say God has blessed me." I left it at that.

"So…" he trailed off and looked out of the window. "Okay, we've got a fifty minute ride just to get to the train. We're not going to sit here and just be awkward teens. Hey, Jamsey!"

That's what he called James, the butler who drove Snow's private limo. Jamsey was a cute name, and I usually would've smiled.

I didn't smile.

"Yes, sir?" James' ancient voice gargled from the intercom as he slid down the black window separating our part from his. He eyed Blondie with malice, though his expression never changed.

"Music, maestro!" Blondie commanded, and immediately loud tunes began roaring in the back where we were. The jolt and beat of speakers scared me so much I jumped hallway across the back of the limo. It started with some kind of pop music, followed by a slower moving classic gospel, and finally ending up on a country song. It was slow and moved with a graceful rhythm. Its title was "Hello World", by a group called Lady Antebellum. It wasn't long until I caught on to the lyrics, and began to sing along on the chorus.

"_Hello world, how you been? Good to see you my old friend…_"

Blondie's mouth was wide as he gaped at me. "Holy crap!" he shouted. "You're amazing!"

I just rolled my eyes.

"_Sometimes I forget what living's for, and I hear my life through my front door…_"

"Either shut up or admit it," Blondie said, smiling at me in that sideways way of his. I laughed.

And, to be honest, if felt pretty good.

* * *

It didn't feel good to get back on a train. For a moment, things felt so surreal, like I was going back home and none of it had even happened. Seeing Blondie, though, and realizing what I was really up against made it leave rather quick, though.

The rickety train car kept tossing us back and forth. I was too lost in thought to care.

The plan itself was simple. I request a meeting with President Snow. I explain why I'm there and my concerns. I tell him to take Trisha out of the Games, and my brother, too, if that's possible. Don't ask me why I felt the need to do what I did. It just felt right. I had to do it, or I at least had to try.

It was ludicrous, now that I thought about it. How stupid was I, really? To think this could actually work. What was my motive? He was sure to ask me that. Why.

Why?

I didn't know why. I just knew what I felt and what had to be done. End of story.

"Brendon…" I mumbled, wondering if he'd even respond. I never called him Brendon. He was just Blondie.

"Yeah?" he turned and looked me up and down. "You okay?"

He really thought I was fine. Okay. Not the reaction I was expecting.

"Yeah." I said dryly. "Just great. Can we turn on some music?"

Blondie shrugged.

I felt so alone. I'd never felt so alone. Alone was something that I didn't like to feel. This wasn't me. I wasn't being me. I needed to be.

_No, _I thought sourly. _Not anymore. I'm not that weak child who started this. I'm the girl in the stars._

"Let's make our own, then," I smiled. "Now, you know "Your Mercy Endureth Forever"?"

"Sing a couple of verses," he said slowly.

"Okay," I cleared my throat, my palms already sweating. "_Lord you are good and Your mercy endureth forever…_" I ended up singing the whole song, and he clapped excitedly.

"I think I just found a way for you to win the games," Blondie said, smirking. "You sing, Dimitri shoots, instant take-down!"

"Oh, ha-ha," I rolled my eyes.

"I wish you believed me. Is it really that hard for you to actually believe in something for once?"

"I – what do you mean, _for once_?"

"When you were little, all the way up to now, you always had to have proof that you could believe, none of this "because I said so" crap. You always had to know; you couldn't trust or believe in it unless you saw it."

"Oh…"

"Not that that's a bad thing, really. It's just a little weird and strenuous at times. Like my p – "

I raised my hand. "Enough, enough, enough." I was smiling, though, so he smiled back.

"You're so perverted," I said, kicking off my shoes. They were starting to hurt my feet.

"I know. I take pride in it."

I laughed, nestling up on the side of a plush, installed couch. "Wake me when we get there," I said softly, closing my eyes and curling into a fetal position.

Just before I was asleep, I heard something shift, felt my hair move from my forehead, and someone placing a gentle kiss on my temple.

I smiled.

* * *

The train lurched forward, and I fell into the floor with a hard _tha-dump!_ I shook my head and wiped the sleep out of my eyes. Blondie was still sleeping like a baby on the opposite couch.

"Hey, blonde boy!" I shouted, tossing his shoe at him. He bopped him in the face, and he sat up, swinging out his arms.

"Oh," he said, his cheeks turning a shade of crimson. "Sorry you had to see that."

"Yeah, I thought you had a little insecurity showing."

"Oh, blah-ha. What time is it?"

I glanced at my naked wrist. "Let's try about half-past it's time for you to get a watch?"

He stuck his tongue out at me. "I miss the less mouthy you."

"You're not the first."

"See, there you go again!"

"I haven't moved an inch, perhaps you need glasses. And apply the bandage slowly to the _burn_." I felt like I needed to put grease in my hair and comb it back. I was becoming a hoodlum.

"Now you're just taking it too far," I could tell that he was joking, but he was also right. I needed to simmer down a little.

I told myself it was just nerves from going to the Capitol's capital.

"Sorry," I said, brushing my hair back, when I realized I could still feel the ghost of his lips on my forehead. I decided not to mention it. More than likely, it was an affectionate, brother-sister kiss. Dimitri gave me those all the time.

But that was Dimitri. This was Blondie.

"All ashore that's going ashore!" shouted the captain, and I thought how funny it was that we were on a train and not a ship.

Blondie – I almost called him Dimitri – yanked on his shoes and grabbed his small bag, shoving us both out of the doorway and unto busy Capitol streets.

I'd always pictured the Capitol as this rotten, nasty place, filled with neon lights and hopeless drunks and cars and crowded, smug filled air.

It wasn't anything like that.

People, parents with children, grandchildren, laughed and played in the park. A homeless couple, content to be so, was seated next to a cardboard-and-trash-can house, holding each other close. They were elders, with grey, thinning hair and broad glasses. I'd never seen anyone so happy. They didn't mind the fact that they were dressing in rags and kept warm with age-old newspapers, ate from the trash cans which doubled as shelter. No, they had each other, and that was enough for them.

I said a small prayer for them as Blondie drug me away, not being able to get an answer out of me for the past five minutes.

The next place I quit moving was a local bakery. Smells of cinnamon and raisin muffins and bagels wafted out, sucking me into them. I stared at each pastry individually, imagining their taste. I'd never had anything fresh from a bakery. Maybe if I had some money? Or maybe I could trade a crumpet for working and –

"Come on, Annie!" Blondie grabbed my wrist again, and I had to dash to keep up.

"Geez, sorry, sorry." None of this was new to him. He'd seen it all countless times, even called a few shop owners by name.

"Why didn't you tell me that the heart of the Capitol was so…so…"

"Lively? Friendly? Homely? Because."

"Because why?"

He smirked, "My point exactly."

I rolled my eyes. "Why?"

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "It just didn't seem right. Plus, I kind of knew you wouldn't believe me. Not without _the evidence._"

I bumped him with my hip, which he returned back, and thus began our slap/hit/shove/bump war against each other. Finally, after many dirty looks and a few choice curse words, we agreed to just walk in silence and no-bumping, though it wasn't half as fun.

"So, the walking thing? It just cuts out sometimes?"

Speak of the dirty, rotten devil.

I bet you can just _guess _what happened next, can't you?

I crashed into Blondie's arms just as I was about to answer, and our lips collided against the others'. We could've stopped at any time we wanted.

Neither of us stopped.


	12. Over the Boundary

_**Hey guys! So, in this chapter...yeah. I just - I don't know. God blessed me with the words, though, so I'm leaving them as is. **_

_**AHHH! Please pray for me! I have teeth work done in less than two hours, and I'm freaking out!**_

_**Love you guys, God bless!**_

_**~Future**_

* * *

**_Dimitri's POV:_**

I shuffled from the room, rubbing my restless eyes and pushing my hair back. I hadn't slept all night. Surely Feverent and Dariya would notice that they were gone, and they would ask me, squeeze the truth out. They had asked me not to tell – well, Annie had – and I wasn't sure if I wanted to tell or not.

I could already tell what was going to happen. First, Dariya would flip out about sponsors and whatnot, go outside and smoke a pack or two, and come back in ranting some more and talking about how she just wanted to eat a million carbs.

Feverent was a different story. She would be mad, so mad that she wouldn't do anything for a while but maybe flip off a chair and stalk away to calm down in her room for a while. She would call Rae and tell him her problems, take a couple of aspirins, and then be ready to talk it out. That's usually how it was with her.

I walked steely into the dining room and sat down abruptly, eating my usual toast and jam. _Maybe they won't notice, _I thought a few minutes into breakfast.

"So, where's Anastasia?" Feverent asked, tipping her nose over the top of the news chronicle.

"She's…she's not hungry," I said, a little too quickly for her taste. She glared over the paper.

"You sure about that?"

"Y-yep," I stammered. "One hundred fifteen percent." She eyed me and I knew I was close to breaking.

I could tell she didn't believe me, so I inhaled the last of my toast and scampered off back to my room to get dressed in our training clothes. Dariya and Feverent had been very so-so with our clothes, not really caring what we wore, but I needed something that would look good.

I wasn't in love with Trisha. At least, I told myself I wasn't. She was just like the guys back home, I told myself. She's just a great friend. You know, who makes you laugh, and makes you want to hang out constantly, who you want to wrap in a hug and give a kiss to…

I shook my head and took out a pair of grey gym shorts and a black body-armor. Maybe this would be attractive. Win me a date?

Good God, I'm starting to sound like my mother.

A knock at the door made me turn around suddenly, a small part of me wishing it was Anastasia. It wasn't. It was just Wynayna, my stylist. She was a great woman, and she had the most beautiful blue eyes. Her hair was the colour of honey, and her skin was caramel. Light, lukewarm freckles made her face shine. She was medium built, with a skinny, lean figure. She would've been drop dead gorgeous to everyone, had it not been for one scar that went from the right side of her forehead all the way to her jaw. She wasn't much older than Feverent – twenty-six, I think – and when she smiled, you could see so much pain and suffering in her features. I was sure the scar still hurt, even though she claims to have earned it twenty years ago.

"Oh," I said smally. "Hey, Wyanyna."

"Hey," she examined me. "Are you really going out like that?"

"Dariya and Feverent aren't designer clothes pickers," I told her, smiling shortly. She grinned and walked over, straightening up the baggy shorts. Normally, I guess I would've blushed if a woman, especially one as beautiful as Wyanyna, was fixing my pants, but after they had all gotten a hold of me the night of the interview, nothing really got to me anymore. I was just glad it wasn't Uranoe, the one boy on my team. He had made some very provocative comments that I'd like to forget.

"You know that only one of you can win, right?"

It caught me off guard. "What do you mean?"

"You and Anastasia. You and Trisha. The three of you. Only one can win."

"Then it'll be one of them,"

"You're admitting death so soon?"

Silence grew between us. Well, yeah, sure, I'm admitting death. Why shouldn't I? "I'd rather die than for one of them to die. One's my sister and one's…"

I trailed off, running a comb through my hair.

Wyanyna sat on the edge of the bed, moving her hair so that it wasn't in her face. "It's okay to not give up sometimes, you know that?" She chewed on the side of her cheek, bit her thumb. "I was just like you once upon a time. Not in the games, but just in life. I made some choices I later came to regret. I gave people opportunities that I deserved. You have so much potential, and I just don't want to see you throw it all away. What about your dreams?"

"I don't have any dreams unless Anastasia or Trisha is there. End of story."

Pulling on a coat, I walked from the room, an ugly scowl on my face. In some ways, Wyanyna did have a point. I was throwing away my chance to own a church, have a family, and somewhere deep inside I knew I wanted all of that and more. But how could I? Annie meant more to me than anything else did. Trisha deserved to live after everything that had happened to her (she had told me later that day, before we came back up for dinner). How could I take that chance away from the both of them?

I didn't realize that I'd taken the elevator and was already downstairs until the elevator dinged and I was brought back to reality.

"Dimitri?" Trisha saw me and smiled, her cheeks a rosy red. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, showing off her heart shaped face. She could tell something was wrong, because her smile quickly turned into a frown and her eyebrows scrunched together. Coming up to me, she looked around and behind me, trying to find her. "Where's Anastasia?"

I sighed. _Here comes the hard part. _

* * *

**_Anastasia's POV:_**

Awkward?

That couldn't even begin to describe how Blondie and I felt on our walk to the mansion. Everything was still and quiet between us, and we didn't smile, not once, even though I was still completely mesmerized by the beauty of the inner-Capitol. At times, I would point to something interesting and glance to see if I got any response. There wasn't one.

Oh, and the legs came back not two seconds after we pulled away. Go figure, right?

I had never expected my first kiss to be like that, much less with the guy who was my eldest brother's best friend, who also happened to be four and half years older than me.

I could only think about how Dimitri was going to freak out. It was almost humorous, how he would jump around and rant and tell me how irresponsible it was. Maybe he would understand when I explained that my legs went out, much like a light, but would he really believe me? It sounded pretty farfetched. "Oh, yeah, well, my legs went out and I feel into him and we sort of kissed, oh, and then when we stopped and I leaned back they came back."

Unbelievable? Totally.

As we walked up the entrance to the mansion, I grabbed his arm and stopped him halfway up the many silvery-white stairs.

"Come on, Blondie. We can't go in there like this. How are we supposed to win this against President Snow if you won't even look at me? Let's not turn this into some sappy _Nora Roberts _or _Nicholas Sparks _novel, alright? It was just an accidental kiss, no biggie." I punched his shoulder playfully. "Now, let's go."

I dashed up the steps, and he followed me with a light smile.

I won't tell you how good it felt to run again. I can honestly say I'd never enjoyed anything more.

Even though the kiss with Blondie still weighed heavily on my mind.

He chased me, finally grabbing me around the stomach with both of his arms and raising me in the air. I laughed, and he did, too. Then he place his foot not an inch in front of us at the top of the stairs and said, "Haha, I win!"

"Not fair!" I shouted, smirking and shoving him once he placed me back firmly on the ground.

"So fair," he said back cockily.

Like any mature person, I did what the mature person would do: stick my tongue out at him. He replied in the same manner, but his face hardened as trumpets blew, and the scariest person on the face of the earth besides the devil himself walked out to great us.

President Snow.

My skin went cold as he stared me up and down, and I now knew why they called him snow. It wasn't his white hair, it wasn't his overly pale skin or too worked on teeth.

No, it was his eyes. They could freeze anything and everything, if only given the chance.

I gulped down my fear hard, so hard that I could hear it and I'm sure Blondie and President Snow could, too.

He held out an ancient hand, not to Blondie, who I was hoping for, but to me.

"Leonardo Snow," he greeted.

"Anastasia Flemhoff."

He smirked coolly, and I knew beyond anything that he _would _get my life. Maybe even the moment I set foot inside of his front door.

"Please, do come in," his voice was shaking purposely, something that would earn credit with the Capitol people.

To me, though, it was just another sentence to be added on my grave.

I nodded curtly, and together Blondie and I walked into the mansion.

He slowly curled his fingers through mine, holding my hand tight, sweat drenched on his palm.

* * *

**_Trisha's POV: (Gah, I'm changing POV's so much this chapter, praise God! Haha! :D ) _**

I smiled, and almost laughed. I would've, add it not been for the rock hard face he was making. I decided to focus on the Careers as they threw weights and bags of flour and spears at each other.

"You can't be serious," I said softly. "I mean, you're joking, right?"

He bit the inside of his cheek. He didn't have to say it. I knew he was serious.

"She's crazy. She's – she's – "

"Yeah," Dimitri nodded, running a hand through his curls. "Yeah, she is. That and more."

"Well, you don't think – "

"I don't know. With my sister…huh," he actually smiled, laughed a little bit.

"What?" I asked, a small smile prying at my own lips.

"Well, it's just that"- he chuckled again – "Mom used to say that she could sell ice to an eskimo. We really weren't sure what it meant, but for some reason we found it funny. I miss those days."

His eyes were lost in time and space. I'd never seen a smile so pure.

"You know, where we could just run around with swords and pretend to be in the games, to pretend to be in war. That time when we were able to go everywhere and do everything, sit down and read a good book or have one read to us. Watch a movie. Pig out. Eat some popcorn. Meet a nice girl, dream of settling down with her and bringer her into the church life with me and – "

He stopped, swallowing and licking his lips as if they were dry.

"I'm sorry. Too much about me. You, uh, you wanna do hand-to-hand combat again?"

He didn't even wait for my answer, but stood and walked out there, strapping on his armor.

"You know," I said, taking a deep breath and putting the helmet on, "you shouldn't take out your anger with hand-to-hand combat. We can sit down and talk about it."

"Talking never got me anywhere," he spat, almost disgustedly. Dimitri sighed. "It's easier just to let it build up inside, the move past it. If it's a burden to me, it'll be a burden to everyone else."

He got in his stance as I was strapping on the last of my armor, and I came to stand in front of him.

"You know, I felt the same way until Tabby finally got me to talk about his death," I said, and we threw false punches and soft kicks and hits at each other. "And I realized after the fact that I felt so much better."

He didn't say anything, and I held my hand up. He punched it repeatedly.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

I rolled my eyes, throwing my hand down and yanking his up. "My turn. And I think I do. You're obviously upset over Shane's death. Your father's. You're worried that you're going to lose Anastasia, and that's the person you really, only truly care for. She practically more important than your mother to you. And you're afraid that you're going to die, just like your father, leaving behind a single mom with two plus kids, one who has a disability. Just admit it and get it out of the way."

I rested my fist, now going after a punching bag. We didn't have to hit each other, but it helped for closer range talking and a more hand-to-hand feel. He went after the one right next to it.

I kicked it over and over again, until it was swaying back and forth faster than a swing with turbo jets on it.

"How did you know that?" He asked a few moments later, after practically killing the red bag full of sand.

"I can read people auras," I smirked, punching the bag a few times, little strings of hair falling into my face and sweat pouring off of my forehead.

He grinned slyly.

"Well, God, it's a miracle," he smiled. I looked at him confusedly. "I think someone has finally cracked my code," he explained. "Someone has figured out Dimitri Flemhoff. Congratulations, should I get you a cookie?"

I laughed, dashing over and giving him a noogie.

* * *

"I'll go on, I'll do whatever you want me to do, I'll be your prisoner. Just call a misjudge and pull Trisha out of the Games. Please." We'd been at this for more than ten hours. It was almost twelve midnight, and Dimitri had given me until twelve thirty to be back.

It looked like that wasn't going to happen.

"I'll go in for her," Blondie volunteered, but one look from his uncle shut him up real quick.

President Snow closed his ancient eyes, and for a moment I felt free. Then he opened them again, and I could see my death raging in his eyes. The torture he would put me through, the mannerisms he'd cause me.

"On one condition," he said slowly, like an announcer for a new movie.

I nodded, telling him to go on.

"You must participate in the Games. And you must not set foot over the boundary."

I didn't know what he meant by that.

"I do not want you to win, Anastasia Flemhoff," he said disgustedly, moving something on his desk. "I do not want you to live. I killed your father, and you know the secret. I _will _get you next." Snow turned to Blondie, who stood up straight at attention. "You. Take her back to the guest room. She will spend the night here, and return abruptly to the hotel by morning light."

"Can she sleep with me?" He asked suddenly. "In-in my room, I mean." Blondie added, his cheeks turning a bright red under his tan skin.

Snow sighed and rubbed his temples. "I don't see why not. No fooling around. I will send a maid at daybreak and she must leave. You two are to never come in contact again, understand?"

We both nodded, though through a single glance we knew we'd not keep that promise. I'd find him, and he'd find me, just like we always had. Never again would I lose him; not when I needed him most.

We left, and I felt a little lighter in my heart, but my mind weighed a million pounds. Snow's words still rang in my head.

_I do not want you to win, I do not want you to live. I killed your father, and you know the secret. I **will **get you next. _

For some reason, I didn't doubt that last part.

I almost didn't want to go to sleep that night.

"Welcome," Blondie pulled me from my thoughts, opening the door to his room, "to the place of el-paradise-oh!"

I laughed as I walked in, amazed with the scenery.

And, of course, the small bed of pillows he'd already prepared for me the night before.

"Thought you might be sleeping in," he shrugged sheepishly, a small grin on his face. I punched his arm, then hip-bumped him for good measure. In response, he grabbed one of the pillows and tossed it at me, to which I threw it back.

It was going to be a long night.


	13. Blown Away

"Where is she?"

"Dimitri, calm down," Trisha tried to calm my brother, right as we were walking through the door, laughing, licking ice cream cones. It was after noon big time, and we were just now getting back to the hotel.

Dimitri paced back and forth on the training mats, Trisha seated on a nearby stack of extra ones. She smiled softly when she saw us, my brother still ranting on and on about how irresponsible this was and how we should've been back by now. Trisha cleared her throat, pointing towards us. Dimitri, caught of guard, swiveled on his heels.

When he saw me, Armageddon must have been set loose.

"Anya! Annie! Anastasia!" I'm not kidding. My brother literally shouted all of my nicknames and name until he crashed into me, knocking me to the ground.

"You made me drop my ice cream," I frowned, then smiled again and hugged my brother back. "It's okay, it's okay! I'm fine! A little worn out from the walk, but completely fine!"

"Where have you been?" he leaned back, examining me all over, checking for any signs of harm. "Are you okay? Did you get sunburned? What happened to your - Anastasia Flemhoff, I was so worried!" He hugged me again, and now I felt like laughing.

"No joke," Trisha smiled, helping to pull my brother off of me. "He's been like this since you left yesterday. And _I've _had to deal with all of this ranting."

I shrugged. "You get used to it." I took her hand and stood. "You look great. I hear full white spandex is in this year."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't sell yourself so short."

"Oh, ha-ha."

The silence was odd between us, like that of Dimitri and me. A sibling silence, where you're saying so much even though you aren't saying much at all.

_When? _she mouthed.

_When what_ is what I almost asked. But I knew Dimitri had told her. I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd told everyone over an intercom (like one year at school, when he...well, that's another story in and of itself).

_Later today. What time is it? _

_Almost three. _

_Oh. Now. _

"Trisha?" her mentor came racing through the gym, her heels causing such a racket everyone stopped to watch. "Come with me," she took Trisha by the arm, and she was yanked away forcefully.

Dimitri looked at me, and I looked to Blondie, and he looked to Dimitri.

It was happening.

* * *

This year, they were trying something new, with two interviews instead of one. That interview was to be held tonight after our finally talleys, the last time they would have until we went into the arena tomorrow.

The intercom sounded overhead, all of us still a buzz over what had happened with Trisha. Sure, we knew, but everyone else was still staring at her replacement. I guess, in someways, I felt guilty about bringing in this other girl. In someways, I didn't. She _was _Trisha's worst enemy, but that didn't mean she deserved to die. I could see her over in the corner, still shaking and crying. It was killing me not to go over there and hug her, apologize constantly.

Dimitri's gentle touch brought me out of my thoughts, and I glanced up at him slowly. "Come on. There's no use crying about it now. What's done is done."

"She shouldn't have made fun of Trisha...she shouldn't have been laughing when she was..." I couldn't justify it.

He rubbed my back. "I know. Seriously, come on though. We have to go back up to our rooms."

"Oh," I said softly. "Okay." I stood and followed behind him, blinking a tear out of my eye at the sight of her. She was only twelve years old. "What have I done..." I whispered.

* * *

"No. Dimitri, I can't do this."

"Anne, it's your turn. If you don't show up..."

"Then what? I'm removed from the games? Oh, boo-hoo me."

"Try thinking worse," he held a look of sympathy. "Look, please do this. For me. I know that you feel awful about what you did to this little girl. I feel awful, too, and I know Beatrice - Trisha - is just beating herself up over this. But we have to move past it. Hopefully, well, maybe she'll win." I could tell from his voice that he wasn't going to let that happen, even if he didn't realize that himself. He wouldn't kill her, persay, but he wasn't going to exactly cry either.

_You know that's not true, _I said to myself. _Dimitri cried when our goat died. He'd cry if a fly dropped dead, even if it wasn't his fault. _

"Fine," I glared, standing from my "rock-back-and-forth-with-my-knees-pulled-up-to-my-chest" position. Stalking out, he said something that sounded like "Good luck", but I wasn't anymore listening than President Snow when we'd first began the debate. The elevator ride made me numb inside, and once it dinged at the gym, I couldn't breathe.

It was deathly silent as I walked in, my boots seemingly louder than Trisha's mentor's heels. They watched me intently, and I could hear them whispering, "That's her." "She's the one." "The faker," one said.

"No, no, it's legit." Another intervened.

"Oh, yeah, from who? That stupid pregnant mentor? Remind me to kill her off, will you?"

"If one of the Five's win, then I will."

"Don't worry. _He _will."

"Shh, she's here!"

They silenced, obviously not realizing I'd heard every word. My death had finally been confirmed by the people who controlled it.

How comforting.

I made a mental note _not _to mention this to Dimitri. It would only make it harder on him. I'd known it was coming all along. Hearing it, though, now realizing just how true it was, that scared me. I couldn't breathe again, and gulping was a torture.

"Don't be so afraid, honey," a curling, snaky voice said from above. "Pick a weapon."

"I'd like to pick one and stick it up your butt," I said, though not loud enough for them to hear. At least, I hoped not. Then again, I was going to die anyway. What did it matter? It's like when I stood at the interviews that first night. It just didn't matter anymore.

I snatched a bow off of the table. (Though Katniss hadn't yet been there, I was no Katniss Everdeen, by any means. It was just the first item I picked up.) After shooting a few targets (three to be exact, I missed two out of three), I moved on to self defense, where I did okay at tackling the punching bag, managed to knock the wind out of a training guy.

Time was slowly clicking by, and I suddenly found myself surrounded. Not really, but it surely felt that way. I was merely a spec, a pawn in his hands. I couldn't be a pawn anymore.

I quietly picked the gun up. Couldn't be a pawn. I couldn't be a pawn. I couldn't.

I raised the gun to my temple, cocked it.

I'm going to die anyway.

Might as well be at my own hand.

"Anya?" a door slammed shut in the gym, a worried voice screaming my name.

I slid my finger unto the trigger.

I couldn't be a pawn. I was going to die.

Couldn't be a pawn.

I gulped, couting down in my head.

_Three..._

"Annie, stop!" The footsteps were walking towards me. I closed my eyes and ignored them.

I couldn't be a pawn.

Couldn't be a pawn.

_Two..._

"Please, you don't know what you're doing!"

I began to pull a trembling finger back. I imagined my spectators were in awe.

I was going to die.

Couldn't be a pawn.

_One..._

I pulled the trigger and was blown to the ground.

* * *

_**Ooh, suspense! Praise God!**_

_**Hope you enjoyed. :)**_

_**Peace Love and God bless!  
~Future**_


	14. I Tried to Kill Myself

_Am I dead? _

I wanted to say it so desperately, but my mouth was so dry that I couldn't. When I finally cracked my eyes open, I just wanted to close them again. _If this is Heaven, I'm checking **out**. _

Bright white lights were in my face and people were all around me.

"You idiot," Dimitri kept mumbling. "You friggin' idiot..."

My brother never used that word unless he was really angry.

I guess I was a master at doing that, especially nowadays.

"Give her some slack," Blondie whispered to him.

"Slack? _Slack_? She tried to _kill herself _Brendon!"

"She didn't mean it," he was stammering. "I - I know she didn't."

"Please," I could pracitcally see Dimitri rubbing his temples. "Please, just, shut up..."

"How's she doing?" Feverent asked, her voice unnaturally soft.

"Still out," Dimitri replied.

"What say you, Blondie?"

"I've been told to shut up," at this I just knew he stuck his tongue out at Dimitri, to which Dimitri rolled his eyes, followed by a soft shoving war.

"Break it up, you too. It's only going to make it harder."

I coughed, an awake cough, which gave it all away.

"Congratulations," Dimitri said sarcastically. Certainly he crossed his arms. "You've successfully managed to postpone the Games for two days. Are you happy?"

"Would've been called off, or they would've replaced me if Snow wasn't going to kill me," I whispered softly, fragile like.

"Oh, please. Anastasia, everything's not all about you!"

"Since when?" I snapped, now opening my eyes and glaring at him. "You haven't let anything _not _be about me since we were born! Especially when I lost my legs! It's all me, me, _me_. Sometimes, I wished that it _wasn't_ all about me! You've never let me do one independant thing in my life since I forgot how to walk! The only time I've had even a taste of freedom was here, in this retched place, and now, I'm realizing, I don't even have that! You would make it just so much easier if you _left_.That's the one thing that would make me happiest right now."

He was at a loss of words. "Have you always felt like that?" he asked after a moment.

"Uh, yeah. I thought it was pretty obvious."

Cumbersome silence engulfed the room. No one spoke. No one moved. I don't even think we were breathing at one point.

"So I see," there was something too final about it. Dimitri stood and rubbed a hand over his features. "I'll be back to uh - uh, yeah..." He walked out, slamming the door behind him.

"I better go check on him," Feverent said quietly, slipping out behind him.

"Are you happy now?" Blondie's voice wasn't as stern as Dimitri's. It was heart broken.

"No. Yes. Maybe. I don't know."

"Were you gonna do it?" he asked, his eyes hard with pain.

I shrugged. "Probably."

"Why?"

"It's just, I couldn't take it anymore! I finally understood that no matter what I did, what measures and mannors I took to make sure the people I cared about were safe, they wouldn't be! That I was just another pawn controlled by the Capitol and President Snow. I was a worthless piece that he was going to just toss away the moment he got a chance. He's not going to make it easy."

"He's not going to make what easy?"

"My death," I replied curtly, staring at the blank ceiling. "He'll make it brutal, heart wrenching. He'll make sure I suffer. That's why I wanted to do it. I wanted to get it over with so I'd miss all of that pain. I think I just brought it on myself faster." I shifted on my pillow so my whole body was facing him. "I wasn't going to do it," I answered. "It wasn't me who pulled the trigger. It was just a desperate plea that I didn't think about. I wasn't in my right mind."

Blondie nodded, trailing his eyes away from mine. Then he smiled halfway. "Good news is, you got a perfect twelve."

I almost shot up from the bed. "I what?"

"Got a perfect twelve. It's all over the news." He turned on a TV, and while most were just talking about a sudden "unknown" cause of the delaying of the Games that season, one finally showed the rankings.

_"Even though President Snow was alerted not long after Five was done in the rankings, we still managed to sqeeuze everyone in, just in time I might add,"_ a snobby Gamemaker, the same one who was talking about me the night before, said to a reporter.

_"Jimmy, can you give us any incite as to what happened there last night?" _the reporter was quick with the next question. They showed a small clip in the upper corner of the screen, where an ambulance was leaving the hotel.

_"I can't reveal too much. But - " _he smiled into the camera._ "There **was **a small disturbance of the peace last night, a misdemeanor if you will. Everything is straightened out now and President Snow asures everything is going to be fixed in time for the Games." _Jimmy glanced at his watch and waved for the cameras._ "I've got a meeting to get to." _

_"Thanks for your time," _the reporter smiled._ "Back to you, Callie." _

Blondie muted the TV and grinned. "You're world news and they don't even realize it."

"World," I said the word softly, quickly.

"Huh?"

"World. The world. I wonder if the rest of the world is like this, if maybe there are other people out there, living on the outskirts of civilization, under no rules but the ones they've set."

"There's always been the possibility of Rebels in District Thirteen - "

"Not the districts. Outside of that, all of them, even Thirteen. Where no one is controlled by anyone and they live life peacefully, freely." I looked at him. "That's what I want. A world outside of Panem. A world that's all my own."

"Don't be going all Alice in Wonderland on me," he smiled and grabbed my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Blondie then bent down and kissed my knuckles. "I'm glad you're back."

"Better than ever. Plus, on the bright side, this gives that new Seven girl more time to train."

"Looks to me like she doesn't need it," he unmuted the television, where we saw that the girl - named Pinesley - got a perfect twelve like me. Apparently she was skilled in martial arts and great with a sword.

I secretly prayed that there wouldn't be any in the Arena.

* * *

_**The Next Day**_

"Oh, thank God! I'd almost forgotten what non-steralized food tasted like!" I continually stuffed myself with pancakes and eggs, OJ by the gallon and milk by the carton. I was having my own personal feast.

"Better slow down, sass-a-frass," Equa warned, pulling drag off of one of Dariya's cigarrettes. They didn't mind sharing. "Or else you won't be able to fit into your dress."

I rolled my eyes and just for good measure drowned my pancakes in syrup.

She rolled her eyes back and blew a puff of smoke at me.

And, like any well respected older twin brother, Dimitri had comepletely shut down when it came to me. We'd practically become enemies over night. I can't say it's a bad thing.

I can't say I like it, either.

"Do you think we should incorporate her wheelchair?" Feverent asked Rae over a morning paper and coffee. "I mean, what if her legs go out just all of a sudden?"

"Well, we'd have to make a special rule. She either goes in there with the wheelchair or without. It'd be like giving her and upper advantage, and no one else on the council is going to jump for that."

"We should at least see what we can do. I want her to win. I _need _her to win." She smiled at me, which was weird.

"What's up with Feverent?" I whispered to Dimitri, who looked away in response.

"Ohh-kay then," I turned back to my food, listening as their conversation went on.

"Just see what you can do?" Feverent was near begging.

"Fine, fine. I'll just call President Snow and - "

"No!" I said, too loudly, too quickly. They all gave me a sideways glance. "I - I mean, no, don't worry about it. We've already talked it through with the judges" - _Lie number one, _my brain reminded me - "and the verdict is I go in with my chair. It's how I started, and it's how I'm going to end." _Lie number two. Good going, Anne. Good going._

Rae glanced at his watch. "Alright then. Let's get you suited up, little Miss Anya. You're fiasco bumped the interviews to twelve, so we can have last minute trainings, goodbyes, etc., before tomorrow morning. We need you up at ten sharp. You'll be in the arena by eleven." I nodded, shoving my plate away and standing, walking behind Rae.

I gave one more look to my brother, hoping he'd return it.

He didn't.

* * *

"You - look - magnificent. If I do say so myself," Rae smiled as he teased the last bit of my hair.

"You've always been one to boast," Feverent said, leaning against the wall. "But I believe, for once, you're right." She laughed and walked over, turning my chair so I could see myself in the mirror.

He was right.

He went for a sweet, modern, natural look. The dress was a soft pastel pink, lighter than any I'd ever seen, coming off in a shell-like cut. It cut off just below the knee. A small white cardigan was covering my shoulders, and my hair was pinned back into a bun, tucked just under my right ear. Little strings escaped from it, my curls, and finally, he added a brown and black, speckled white feather, attached to my smidge of bang. I wore big black heels that were so chic even Feverent was jealous.

I was stunning, even from my point of view.

Feverent carressed the feather, smoothing it back. "You look gorgeous, honey."

"Okay," I smiled, "what has gotten into you? The both of you?"

Feverent glanced at Rae. "Should we tell her?" she tried to mouth but she was speaking clear as day, which almost made me laugh.

He shrugged. "I don't see why not."

Feverent tapped her chin. "Hmm...I can't make it too easy. Ooh, I know!" She grabbed a napkin from the makeup counter and scribbled letters on it, handing it to me.

_ N_

"Three words, three guesses." She grinned, wrapping and arm around her stomach.

"I - " I started, but was cut off as people from the film staff starting piling in, asking if I was ready. Before I knew it, I was shipped off once again to the TV station. Dimitri, who was going for a suave James Bond look, didn't speak to me for the entire ride.

"Are you going to be sulled up forever?" I asked him.

No answer.

"You know we can't go into the Games like this..."

No answer, not even a look.

"I mean, seriously, Dimitri. I can't - you know, this is why I tried to kill myself in the first place!" _And lie number three. Ding-ding, we have a winner! _

He gulped hard, trying to find the words to say.

I didn't even let him have a chance.

"You know what? Fine! Don't talk to me! I'd rather do this by myself anyway." When the car stopped, I let myself out, glancing back one last time. "I hate you." I slammed the door, walking away, looking back once.

My brother was crying in the backseat.

* * *

Laughter and clapping erupted as everyone filed on stage. Dimitri and I, even though not seven inches apart, were farther away than we'd ever been. There was nothing but cold in between us. I hadn't meant what I said, but he wasn't going to listen to me now. I wouldn't listen to me.

When Caesar walked on stage, you would've thought all heck had broken loose. Screams filled the air, cheers, arms in the air, people in the front row jumping up to try and touch his pant leg.

"You don't think he's famous, do you?" I whispered sarcastically to myself, something I normally would've asked to Dimitri, who would have biten back a laugh.

_I almost hate my life. _

Caesar waved to the crowd, silencing them as the large "APPLAUSE" sign clicked off. He took a seat and began the interviews. I didn't pay attention. I didn't care. From what I'd figured out - and it wasn't a lot - my death was to be postponed until the very end, as if they would make sure that I didn't die _until _then. They would take every means necessary to make sure I died when President Snow wanted me to.

I was still a pawn. Still controlled. I almost wanted to pick up that gun again and make sure that Blondie didn't push me out of the way, to do it when they'd never suspect it.

I'd thought I'd done that in the first place.

Then again, it wasn't planned.

But it was too late now.

Dimitri was going before me this time, for what reason I had no idea, and I tried to give him a reassuring touch. He shoved me off.

"Have it that way," I snarled, crossing my arms. It was just my luck that the cameras caught it.

Dimitri sat tensely, glaring at Caesar, the cameras.

Caesar tsked. "Everything okay between you and your sister?"

"Yeah," Dimitri said sourly, crossing his legs and arms. "Everything's just _peachy_."

My brother didn't handle emotions well. Can you tell?

"Are you nervous about the Games tomorrow?"

Dimitri gave Caesar a hard look. "Yes."

Caesar smiled his buck-tooth donkey smile at the crowd, causing more laughter and clapping. He laughed. "So I see...now, Dimitri, we're here for one thing and one thing only; to show your scores."

"Show them," he shrugged, leaning back in his chair.

Dimitri's picture flashed up on an unlimited supply of TVs, one right above our heads and the others scattered to the sides and in the back of the crowded room.

_"Dimitri Flemhoff with a score of seven." _An intercomed voice said overhead, the same voice that would be telling us who had died or if any changes had been made during the course of the Games.

"Seven. Like your girlfriend?"

This caught Dimitri off guard, causing him to jump up to the edge of his seat. "She - she's not my girlfriend."

"Really? I believe this says different."

And then, my oh so perfect brother was ratted out on national TV. It showed him and Trisha, Dimitri pushing her up against the wall on a sudden whim, and slowly drawing her into a kiss.

My smile was so wide I honestly thought I was going to break my face. I began to laugh quietly. "And you tell me not to do things on a whim?"

Dimitri's cheeks were red and flarring. "How did you...?"

Caesar smirked, nodding slowly. Dimitri reclused.

The buzzer sounded, slowly bringing it to a close. "I believe," Caesar said slowly, "that we are out of time. Thank you. A round of applause for Mr. Dimitri Flemhoff, the boy with a dream!" Caesar lifted his hand high into the air, and several girls screamed in delight.

My brother was famous.

Now if only it was in a good way, like his church, or his sermons.

Just not this way.

"Your turn," Dimitri told me coldly. I stood and shoved past him, sitting down in the appropriate chair this time.

"Last time you were here, if I recall correctly, you were in a wheelchair." He smiled at me, so fake it was genuine.

"A lot has changed since then," I told him.

He nodded. "Well, our latest report says something happened two nights ago. Can you give us any insight as to what happened?"

I looked to the cameras.

Feverent was makign faces at me, telling me to keep quiet.

I just couldn't.

"You had your whim moment Dimitri," I muttered. "Now it's my turn."

I sat up straight, aimed my eyes straight for the camera, and said, "I tried to kill myself."


	15. I Can't Do This

"You tried to kill yourself?" Caesar was in shock, and half the crowd gasped. Dimitri looked ready to kill me, and I was sure I'd just rained all over Feverent's parade.

Sad thing was, I didn't even care.

I nodded. "That's right. I picked up a gun, put it to my temple, and tried to kill myself." Silence. Absolute silence. Not even a cricket chirped. "I didn't mean it, though," I said after a moment. "It was a desperate plea that I didn't think about. If I survive the Games I'm to go to a daily counceling for the next six weeks, one hour out of everyday. If I'm not "cured"" - I made sure to put air quotes around it - "by that time I'm to be put in a mental asylum. Simple as that. But I'm fine now. I wasn't thinking and it's over with. I got...I got really, really lucky." I smiled and clasped my hands together as I thought about it. "My friend - a really good, lifelong friend - saved me just before I pulled the trigger. If he'd been another second late, maybe even a milisecond, I wouldn't be here right now. And for that I'm very grateful."

I wasn't fake smiling this time. It was real.

"Yes..." Caesar nodded. Then, his face lit up. "Wait. Did you say _he_?"

Oh, God. What have I gotten myself into?

I gulped and nodded. "Ye-yeah. He."

"He who? Come on, Ms. Anya. Who is this mystery fellow to whom we owe the honor of your presense this evening?" I wasn't sure even _he _knew what he was saying, even though it did sound good.

"That would be, um, Blon - Brendon Chesser."

"Ooh," Caesar grinned. "A romantic flair with the nephew of the President?"

"No, no it's nothing like that," I assured quickly, only to my dimise the cameras flipped around, going back and forth until they captured his face in the front row of the audience. It was torn apart.

"He seems to think otherwise," Caesar smiled at me. The buzzer sounded, and Caesar cursed under his breath. He snapped in the air, and an all clear signal sounded. "Sorry about that. They hit it too early," he lied, laughing. "Now, Anya, let's get off of these subjects and discuss your score. Boys!" He snapped again, and the Gamemaker's loud voice said,

_"Anastasia Flemhoff with a score of..." _he was hesitant before speaking. _"Twelve." _

Gasps were heard among most of my apponents, even the audience members.

"How can that be?" Caesar hissed to a crew member. "Get me James on the phone this instant!" He then seemed to realize that we were still on the air.

"One more question, your grace," he smiled and took my hand. "Will you or will you not be going into the Games with your wheelchair? Reports say that you have a tendancy to..._lose them_?" Another picture appeared on the screen, the one of me falling into Blondie and our surprise kiss on the way to meet Snow.

"I will," I stuttered softly, though no one was paying attention to me. The cameras shifted to my brother, and he did _not _look happy.

Dimitri's eyes bugged out of his head. He was so angry he stood and took a step forward, and probably would've murdered me had the staff not forced him back down into his seat. His eyes were raging with hatred and heat.

"Ooh," the crowd said in unison, and I vicsiously glared at all of them.

"Nothing's happening, eh?" Caesar said. A crew member dashed out just then and whispered urgently, "We have to move on. Be done with her!" The buzzer sounded, and, Caesar, looking annoyed, grabbed my hand and kissed my knuckles. "Sad to say we're out of time. Shall we?" We stood, and he raised my hand into the air. "Anastasia Flemhoff, the girl in the stars!"

My fans merely stared at me with hate.

* * *

_**Ten AM; Following Day**_

"...Make sure to watch out for Shine. Oh, and Pinesley. I don't like the look of that girl. It's as if she knows that you're the one who brought her into this." Feverent was babbling.

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me," I muttered sourly. I couldn't eat. I was sick to my stomach.

"Any idea what it'll look like this year?" Dimitri asked, shoulder the small bag he'd recieved from our mother. Inside he'd secretly stuff rolls and bagels in hidden compartments, bottles of water in others. Dariya kept muttering how it was against the rules, not that we were listening.

"No clue. We've received a few hints but..."

"What were they?" I asked too quickly. My lips were dry and I was shaking. I couldn't do this. I just couldn't do this.

"Only one, actually. They said it's close to home."

"Close to home?" That was definitely a riddle. Or maybe it was so obvious it was hidden.

"That's all they said," Feverent forced my arms into a jacket, then pulled my wheelchair up to me. From now until the end of the Games I was to be stuck in it. How wonderful.

I sat down, Feverent clicking the impenitrable belt into place. Even if I wanted to get out I couldn't.

Sitting in it again, it brought back bad memories, memories I'd rather forget. Before I could get too lost in them, we began the descent to the blimps, which would deliver us to the Games' loading dock.

"Dimitri...I'm scared," I whispered to myself. "_Anastasia, it'll be okay. Nothing's going to happen because your big older brother is here to be over protective and kiss girls on whims._" My phony voice for Dimitri was hilarious, even to myself. It was a cross between a bad fake British accent and a good Indian one. "Oh, okay Dimitri. Thanks. I'm not so scared now. Oh, and by the way, President Snow is going to kill me right before your eyes. _Really? Why? I told you not to go and see him! I won't let him! _You can't stop him. That's why I tried to kill myself. _...It makes sense now. _Reeeallllyyy?"

"You havin' a good conversation, Miss?" Blondie asked me, smiling. I was already at the loading docks? That was fast. Only now did I recognize the sting of a needle that had once been in my arm.

"It's pretty good," I smiled. "Listen, Blondie..."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I, uh, I just wanted to say - " I gulped. I couldn't do it.

"What?"

"I just wanted to say, that, I mean, if we never see each other again, and I just wanted to say - "

And he did it. He kissed me. A strong, passionate kiss, one that was unlike any other. Fireworks were going off in my mind. It was exactly how everyone said it would be.

"Is that it?" Blondie asked as he pulled back. I nodded, swallowing my fear on _that_ subject.

"Yeah."

"Okay," Blondie stuck his hands awkwardly in his pockets. "I guess this is it?"

"Yep..."

_"Hunger Games launch in one minute." _

"Goodbye, Brendon."

"Bye, Anastasia."

_"Forty seconds." _

A door opened, revealing Rae. "You've gotta go now," I said sadly. "See you on the flipside?" I was too hopeful.

"See you on the flipside." He smiled at me, and I found myself memorizing how he looked in that instant.

My mother would've told me I was too young to know what true love is. Maybe I was. Maybe I wasn't. I wasn't sure.

I do know, though, that watching him leave was the worst torture I'd ever experienced.

"Are you ready?" Rae asked me, straightening my coat, slipping a scarlet feather in my hair.

"What's this...?"

"Just trust me."

_"All tributes board the launch pads now. Twenty seconds." _

I went to push myself up on the ramp, but Rae stopped me. "I've got it." He pushed my forward, locking my chair into place so it wouldn't roll when the launch pad moved. He brushed back my hair, feeling the feather one last time. "Feverent wanted me to give you this, just like I gave it to her a few years back. She says it's her good luck charm."

"Thank you," I mumbled softly. "Rae?"

"Hmm?"

"Tell her I said thank you. For everything. I hope you two are happy together. And the "little surprise"," I grinned.

"You figured it out."

"I've always figured it."

_"Ten seconds." _

"Rae, I can't do this!" I started shaking.

"Yes, you can." He pressed a kiss to his fingers and touched my cheek lightly. "Dimitri still loves you. He's so sorry for how he's reacted. Please, don't think he hates you."

"I don't."

_"Eight seconds." _

The tube dropped down to suck me up.

"You can do this," he smiled, his voice muffled and echoing.

"I can't!"

"You _can_. You _will_."

I went to wave at him as I began to rise into the wide open. The launch pad cut me off. Once up in clear air, I opened my eyes - only to be surrounded by darkness. I could barely see the outline of Dimitri's worried face next to me.

It killed me that my brother was to my side, and not Warren Splice.

I _wished _it was Warren Splice.

I would have given _my life _for it to be Warren Splice.

I was about to anyway.

_"Five…four…three…two…"_

"One," I whispered. I closed my eyes tightly and pushed off of the launch pad. I didn't open them until I felt a drop of rain on my nose.

When I did, I wanted to close them again.

I was sitting in my living room.


	16. The Wood

At first, I thought I was dreaming. Had I just woken up from a terrible dream? Was I really back home? Where was Mom? Shouldn't she be home by now?

"Dimitri?" my voice echoed throughout the house - and that's when I realized something. It was raining..._in the house. _Looking up, I noticed how there wasn't a ceiling, that trees grew tall and wide, clouds crackled with lightening and sprouted with thunder. Just like an old memory I had from when I was five.I pushed my chair forward, all of it too real, too close to home.

Too close to home. _Close to home. _

I face palmed, wringing my hands. Too close to home was right! I knew it was too obvious! I touched the couch, the soft velvet warming my fingertips. Man, I missed that couch. I smiled, close to sucumbing the warm, protective feeling I knew and grew up around.

_No_, I thought bitterly. _No, no, no. It's all a nightmare, a hologram, a virtual reality. That isn't my couch, this isn't my house. This is the Games. Where's the Cornucopia or whatever it's called? _

_"Confused?" _It wasn't the Gamemaker's voice. It was President Snow's._ "Ha-ha. I would expect you to be. Welcome to the seventy-third Hunger Games. Just a little hint - the Cornucopia is over the boundary. All of you must do your battleing there. There will be no exceptions. And remember; no one can see your safe haven apart from you. That is all. May the odds be **ever **in your favor." _There was something a little too mocking by how he said it. Over the boundary.

I couldn't go over the boundary, which meant no supplies, which also meant that I wouldn't be able to get to my brother.

I figured that each and every person had their own virtual reality of their homes. Because each one would be different for them, it had to be different for Dimitri and me, too.

My heart pinged with sadness. So that's how he'd do it. Not in front of Dimitri, but where Dimitri couldn't get to me. The only way he'd see my death was when they broadcasted it in the sky.

"Cold, Snow," I muttered, kicking my foot in my wheelchair. "Absolutely cold."

I tried not to smile at that accidental pun, but one sprang to my mouth anyway. _Shane would've loved that. _

I'd come to know the real Shane for only a day now. Blondie had endless stories about the two of them, which would explain why we were up all night. My older brother, man, he loved everything and everybody. He didn't care that he had a disability, that his mother could sometimes be an emotional wreck, and especially that he had two younger siblings. His had longish hair that, even when he cut it, would always seem to grow back over night, and dark eyes that Blondie said could penetrate into your very soul. When he laughed, even though Shane himself couldn't hear it, that it was like a dolphin, clapping its flippers.

I'd laughed at that.

I didn't laugh now.

"Okay, okay, just relax," I began to talk it through to myself, like I used to do with my panic attacks. Funny, I hadn't thought about those in a long time, and now I was suddenly going through one. My pulse was pounding in my ears, my breathing uneven and shallow. "Calm down. It's okay. Think this through. What do you need? Water." I opened my eyes and felt the water slowly soaking through my clothes. "A way to store it?"

My kitchen was exactly how I remembered it to be. Bowls and pans lined the countertop, the stove was turned on to keep us warm (though usually only during the winter), the fridge was up against the wall with nothing but old yogurt and bananas inside of it. I smiled as a neon green one, my mother's favorite, caught my eye. I immediately rolled over to it, pulled it out from a stack of others, and set it to where the rain could fall in.

Surprisingly enough, this hologramic feature held intact, collecting the water without the sightest thought.

"Good. Thank God. Now, food. I need food." I opened the fridge door, and, sure enough, what did I find in my wake other than bananas and day old yogurt? I grinned wildly. "Praise the Lord!"

Dimitri had really been rubbing off on me.

"Dimitri..." it hurt to say his name. It hit me right in the gut, gave me a slap in the face. I told him I hated him, and he was going to die thinking that I did. I was so stupid! Why did I say that, do those things? Why, why, why?

I didn't realize that I'd been pelting my head with a banana, much like a face palm, until the banana became a pudding just above my eye. "Eew!" I wiped it off, growling, tossing it in the floor. I'd rather have yogurt.

I reached up to grab a canister, my fingers just close enough to scrape it...right as I was restricted from the waist down. I glared hard at my lower half, suddenly remembering that I was in my wheelchair.

Why did I agree to bring that in with me? I would have stood a better chance on foot.

After making several more attempts to grab the yogurt, I gave up and started rolling towards other rooms of my house, looking for someway to get outside. I pushed on the wheels for what seemed like hours; I'd past all of our bedrooms ages ago. Maybe the hallway was never ending. I hadn't thought about that.

A loud noise sounded, causing me to stop abruptly. I shielded my eyes in an attempt to block out some of the raging air and glowing light. When it finally died down, I removed my arm from its place and looked at the walk-through wall.

It would've been practically invisible had it not been for the bright red warning etched in the middle of it. "BOUNDARY" it read. I could see the Cornucopia. I could see the other tributes walking, dazed, though they quickly stepped up their guard and held hands out to each other. They wouldn't begin the run to the Cornucopia until they believed everyone to be out there.

Note the word _believed. _

It was also the only place they could fight. If the first few went after each other, whoever the winner was would be too bonetired to fight. They wouldn't let the Games go on like that; it would go by too fast. They had a plan, I was sure, and I think the most complicated plan was the homes. You could come in at any time, stay as long as you wanted to. There were no rules.

"There is no way..." I told myself. "They're not _that _stupid. Surely there's a time - "

As if in response to my question, lightening crackled down from above, just barely missing my chair.

For some reason, it brought a crazed smile to my face.

"Wonderful. Just perfect." I couldn't go over the boundary. I was trapped in a house that brought nothing but haunting memories back, and I had to dodge _lightening strikes _up until the moment when Snow caused my death.

It scared me how close to laughter I was. Why was I enjoying this? Why did I think it was so funny, practically the coolest thing on Earth?

_"All Clear - Every Tribute is out of the buildings."_

_"May the fighting begin!" _

As the voice I now recognized as Jimmy and President Snow clicked off, I looked outside of my boundary line.

I could just barely see my brother, darting for his life.

* * *

_**Dimitri's POV:**_

The house had been confusing enough. Now this?

As I looked around, I didn't know what to think. It was as if all the other tributes were appearing spontaneously from the air; you couldn't see their homes if you tried.

And worse, I couldn't see my sister.

_I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. _

Those words would haunt me forever.

_I hate you. _

They were the only words I could hear. They played like a broken record over and over in my head. _I hate you. _

I was starting to believe it.

_"All Clear - Every Tribute is out of the buildings."_

_"May the Games begin!" _

I took off running.

It wasn't easy, trying to get to the Cornucopia, not get hit by some newfound weapon, and search for my sister. A dagger flew past my head and knicked my ear. Another fired a gun in the distance. Was that an arrow that just landed in front of me?

My head was spinning as I spotted a bag and went for it. As predicted, my own bag had been intercepted and cleaned out, and I have been given a "warning", the Peacemaker stating that it was a "Federal offense" to bring anything in or out of the Arena, and that when I came back there would be serious charges.

I'd tried to ignore the "when" in that sentence, but it struck me like a slap in the face every time I thought about it. Then I would shake my head and mumble, "No. Anya will win. Anastasia's _going _to win."

Was I trying to convince them or myself?

Another dagger wizzed past my ear, the same one I might add, and I grabbed the one thing I was good with - a bow and quiver of arrows. Besides hand-to-hand this was the only thing I'd had time to master, thanks to flirting with Trisha and watching over Anastasia...

_You know what? Fine! Don't talk to me! I'd rather do this myself anyway. I hate you. _

"Dimitri look out!" a shrill, familiar, far away voice screeched, and I turned just in time for the District One boy Tribute - Kart? - to jump on top of me and send us both rolling. He wasn't interested in killing me, he only wanted my bag. I wasn't going to let him get it.

I punched him in the face, to which he replied by kneeing me in the groin. I bit my lip to keep from groaning and instead used my legs to flip him off of me. I ran, hoping he didn't regain his balance as fast as I knew he would.

I glanced back, a triumphant smirk on my face.

Then I gulped.

Too late.

He toppled over me, nearly breaking my neck as we went down, still yanking like crazy to steal my bag. Half of the tributes were either still fighting or had returned to their "safe haven" as Snow had put it. I was starting to question exactly how safe it was.

"No!" I screamed, kicking him in the ribs, slapping his hands away while trying to protect myself at the same time. I punched upward, blood sprouting on my hand. I didn't want to look up, but I did anyway.

Bad choice.

Kart already possessed a black eye, a more than likely broken nose, and a bloody lip from me. I felt close to crying from all the sympathy I suddenly had for him. "Kart," I croaked, holding up a hand. "Stop. Allies." I held it out for him to shake - and right then is when I had the first worse experience of my life.

Kart squeezed it with all of his might, then used it to flip me over his shoulder, turning it sideways in the process. I cried out, and he grabbed my bag, running away with his goodies. The sun was already starting to set over the expansive field - had we been in here that long? - and I heard something that terrified me more than my now fractured hand.

"Ahh! Help me!" a girl, it sounded like Pinesley, screeched. Something barked. It was so chilling a nervous jitter danced its way up my spine. Another growled, though I couldn't see it. It sounded awfully close.

I high-tailed it back to my version of the house.

* * *

**_Anastasia's POV:_**

Between dodging lightening bolts and figuring out how I was going to get out of there and see my brother, I'd created a timeline of when things occured.

We had five hour days, that began promptly at six AM sharp. At six, all Tributes would be forced out of their homes, either by electric shock or by other means. For five hours, homes would be cut off. There was a small thicket of woods for which to hide, gather excess food, etc. (etc. meaning use the bathroom. There wasn't any working plumbing in these models), and as soon as night befell the "Wood", as I'd nicknamed it, vicious, rabid demon-dogs would descend upon the fields. Anyone still out in the forest, at the Cornucopia, or just in the general Wood, would be attacked and eaten without a second thought. It was a quick way to kill people off, that's for sure.

I also learned that the rain only went on _inside _of the houses, and that's also the only place where lightening struck.

I rolled into my bedroom, unbuckling my belt - it was on time release - and used my feet (though it was almost against the rules) to hoist myself into bed. I cozied up on the pillows, wrapped the blankets tight around me. I could smell Mom's homemade fabric softener, and her sickly sweet perfume still hung in the air. I cracked an eye open, wondering if Dimitri's bed would be there. It was, in the same exact place, shoved against the wall, posters and books and crumpled paper surroudning it, just as it had been the day we were Reaped.

I gave a small smile.

When Dad died, Mom lost the best job she'd ever had, and we had to downsize our house. For a while Dimitri and I managed to be in seperate bedrooms when she lost her job again due to cut backs. For a long time we lived in a car. Then she managed to snag a job in the City, and we got this small shack with two bedrooms, a living room, and a decent sized kitchen. Dimitri and I hadn't argued too much about sharing a bedroom, though a lot of our friends (namely his) thought it was stranged for two fourteen year olds of the opposite gender to still be in sleeping in the same room.

I realized only now how much I missed that.

Thunder boomed overhead, as if signalling lights out. I happily correlated to its wishes.


	17. Communication

_**Dear Journal, **_

_**Lightning struck my bed this morning at five fifty-five. I immediately sprang outside in order to get a new bag of supplies. Nothing in the house but old yogurt and bananas, of which neither I perfer. Still haven't seen Anastasia. I wonder where she could be. Last night as I tried to go to sleep, that day's dead tributes shot up in the sky. Shine was the first to go, no surprise. She wasn't a fighter. The other was Pinseley, as I'd feared. Funny, the two we were supposed to look out for were the two that died first. That doesn't mean I can let my guard down. **_

_**I've been in this tree almost half an hour, catiously scooping some honey out of a bee hive. The sickly sweet aroma is killing me. My mouth is watering like crazy. I still haven't seen Anastasia, even from this height. Will keep you posted. **_

_**I might just go after her. **_

_**In Christ, **_

_**D. **_

* * *

It killed me to get back in my chair, especially so early in the morning when I couldn't really think straight, but it's not like I had much of choice.

Well, I guess I did. I just didn't know how to use it. Complicated, I know. Rolling into the kitchen, I grabbed another yogurt and engulfed it in a second. Sure, it wasn't Capitol food, but at least it got rid of this wretched hunger deep in the pit of my stomach. Once that was over, I contemplated for several minutes on whether or not I should take a shower (which meant filling up buckets of rain water and pouring it over myself), eventually settling on figuring out a plan and watching my brother.

I glanced at my pocket watch (an old gift my mother gave me that I'd found in my closet). 6:03. Dimitri took off running in the ealry, dawning light, just as I'm sure most of the tirbutes were waking up. He snatched a spare, left-behind satchel, pulling something out of it. A journal? He nodded approvingly, and upon hearing the rustle of others, high-tailed it for the forest.

I watched from my boundary for the longest time. I kept wondering what he was thinking. Did he miss me?

"How pathetic. All aboard for the pity train? Or would you like to take Selfish Express?" I smiled at my own lameness, turning my chair around in the hallway and rolling back to the kitchen, going through it with a small cup I'd found stowed in the lower cabinets and scooped up some water to drink. I finally made it to the living room, and I stared at a blank TV. I wasn't even sure it worked, much like the indoor plumbing.

Sipping the water, I glanced up at the rain clouds which would soon become stars.

"When?" the question was simple enough. I don't know why I expected an answer.

I quietly drank my water.

_"Soon.__" _it was a whisper, a chilling, bone-tingling whisper that made me spit my drink out and drop the cup, finally sending me into a coughing fit.

I couldn't help but wonder what Dimitri was getting into now.

* * *

_**Dear Journal, **_

_**It's about ten thirty and evening is setting over the Field. That's what I've decided to call it. As of now, my stomach is full of wild honey. Man, was it delicious! It makes me miss Mom's old recipe that she'd make especially for me because I liked it so much on our dry toast. **_

_**Thinking about Mom is hard. It just reminds me about how I'll probably never see her again. Mom, if they find this journal and give it to you, and I'm not there, just know, I love you, it's such a love that I can't explain it in words. Anastasia loves you, too. I'm going to find her. She'll be the one to give this to you. I know she will. **_

_**And Trisha - God, journal, there are so many weeds out here. I think of Weed-Whacker everytime I see them. It makes me long for that kiss that should've been a hundred; that one whimsical moment that should've lasted forever. I can, even here, see our life together. It wouldn't be easy, but then again, nothing's easy about Trisha. I see our kids, I see our house, I see my church, I see Mom standing there holding our youngest. I see us growing old on a porch, slowly rocking back and forth to the cries and laughted of our grandchildren. I long for that life that I know I can never have. **_

_**I wonder if she remembers me, if she's thinking these same things. I'm doing a lot of wondering, huh? **_

_**I'm heading home now, and I'm going to try and figure out a way to see past all of these...blockers? Yes, blockers. That's what I'm going to call them. I've got to know if Anastasia's alive. I've got to find her. I've got to. **_

_**In Christ,**_

_**D. **_

* * *

Sitting at the boundary was getting boring.

Then evening began to set, and everyone really began fighting.

Sure, they'd been killing each other before, about five dead now.

But when they knew everything was on the line and they only had a few minutes left, they became killing machines. Kart was in the top three, at best, the others a pointy-nosed girl with ruby-red hair and the boy from Seven.

I died when Dimitri emerged from the forest and into the Wood. All three of them immediately locked on eyes on him, and, once again, Kart looked hungry for his bag. Dimitri raised his bow instinctively, already notching an arrow. Three to one? It didn't seem fair.

I thought about trying to roll across the boundary again. What was he going to do? Kill me the moment I went across it?

_No. No, no, no..._fear pinged in my chest.

Not in the house.

He'd wait to get Dimitri in a dangerous position and when I lost all willpower and went across the boundary, he'd kill me, right there. A bomb of some sorts? Or maybe lightening? Poison gas? A little bit of both?

I watched Dimitri like a hawk, knowing that I should probably move before the trigger-bolts went off due to mine staying in one place for so long.

"Be careful," I whispered.

* * *

_**Dimitri's POV:**_

"Be careful," I heard that familiar voice again, though this time it wasn't shrill and yelling. It sounded calm but tensed at the same time.

I aimed my bow for Kart's chest. At best I could take two of them down and beat the other with hand-to-hand.

If I had to take them out it would definitely be Kart and the Seven boy. I mean, they were men. It was easier, morally, in my mind, then killing a woman. Rose would be a different story. Rose Durringnhame was her name, and she'd won the Panem Award in professional boxing. She was tough, even though her small frame and tiny build did nothing to support that.

"Leave me alone," I voiced it loud enough for them to hear. They took a step toward me. I took one back. "I mean it. I'm prepared to kill you." _Not emotionally or mentally, but prepared. _I added in my thoughts.

Kart flipped out his dagger and Rose raised her spear. The boy from Seven gave me an even look, kiss three fingers, raised them into the air at me, and nodded. _For Trish, _he mouthed. Then he turned, yanked out a gun, one of the only ones provided, and shot Rose in the side of the chest, re-cocking and pressing the barrel against Kart's head before he could even blink or react to the blood splatered on him.

I thought it was over as he closed his eyes and went to pull the trigger - he wasn't fast enough. Kart stabbed him in the stomach, then another right where his heart would've been. Seven gasped for air, holding a tight grip on Kart's wrist. He tried to say something, staring intently into Kart's eyes. I could see tears in them as the boy released his final breath and fell to the ground with thud.

Kart panted, grabbing the gun and giving me a wry glance. He pointed a shaky finger at me. "You're next, Pretty Boy." He said before running back to his home.

I heard the soft snarl of the dogs emerging and wasn't far behind him.

* * *

"Okay, here's an idea - I do it right now! I'll just let the dogs slowly rip me to my death! No?" I sighed, rolling my eyes at the useless stuffed-animal jury I'd assembled. "You're no help. Especially you." I glared at the penguin. "All you do is sit there and sqwak. Don't you have anything useful to say."

I was close to sobbing. "God, am I crazy? This is my punishment, Snow? Make me crazy enough to be put into an insane asylum? Or are you just going to let me rot here until I die from madness?"

I would've sworn he said, "No." Which "he", though, remained to be seen. This one sounded soft and gentle.

The next was cruel and confronting. _"Come now, Anastasia. Don't you wish to play my game?" _

Was I the only that could hear him?

_"We installed a...hmm, how can I say it so you'll understand? Recording device?" _

_"What about walkie-talkie, sir. They-they had those back around when she was born." _

_"Ah, yes. A walkie-talkie. It's also linked to your thoughts, dear. Removeable only by trained Capitol surgeons. You're, how you kids say, **screwed**?" _

I rolled my eyes. "Why post-pone it any farther? Just kill me and get it over with!"

_"Oh, but my dear Annie, there's no fun in that. I want you to play this game with me. See it through to the end, and you will thank me for it later."_

"Something in your voice tells me that I _won't_."

Snow seemed to think it over. _"Hmm. Yes. Perhaps you're right. I could - oh, but we might as well! This game only lasts a few more hours, two days at the most my dear. There's nothing to worry about." _

"You remind me of someone," I said quietly. "Someone...familiar...from a book my mother used to read, Mor...Moriar...Moriarty! That's it."

I saw Snow's cruel smile. _"_**_Professor _**_James Moriarty. Yes, he is one of my favorites. Nothing more satisfying than a grand villian."_

"You're far more twisted than he is! You - " I stopped myself. No. I needed to play this to my advantage. "You are awful," I restated. This caught him off guard.

_"Wh-what?" _

"You're an awful villian! I've seen far worse. Moriarty would look on you and spit in pity. You're a grungy cockroach, a stupid bug on his windshield. You will _never _be as good as Moriarty."

Snow growled, though he knew he had to calm down. _"Goodnight, darling." _

I knew he wouldn't respond no matter how many questions I asked or comments I made, so I decided to just give up for the night.

I snuggled into the covers yet again, another day wasted, another day still alive and almost wishing he'd killed me. I didn't sleep a wink.

Too bad it'd be my last.


	18. I'll Learn not to Play with Fire

_**Dear Journal, **_

_**Another useless morning doing nothing but hanging out in the trees. Maybe I should get in there and fight for my cause. Would that be smart, though? **_

_**As of last night, there's a total of twelve dead. I'm not sure how many are dead now. I've heard the canon so much that it's still ringing in my ears. Ate some more wild honey, then poured a little in the cantena for when I find Anastasia. I think I've found a way to get past the blockers, though it's pretty bold. **_

_**And by bold, I mean simple. I kept thinking, "I go in the direction to my house and end up at the boundary point. If I were to follow someone's, say, Kart, then maybe, just maybe I'd end up at his." **_

_**It's a whim move, but my last whim turned out pretty good. I wouldn't mind doing it again. **_

_**I set out as soon as I get back to the Field. I've been examining it from the trees all day. So far, no one has emerged from the southwest side, just past the two Six's homes. I should've guessed she'd be right next to me. I'm leaving the tree now, beginning a daring trek into the Field. I'm constantly mumbling Mom's song to myself. "Stay safe, stay warm. And in the morning, when it's calm, you'll be in my loving, caring, arms." **_

_**Stop crying, you wimp. Just stop it. **_

_**In Christ, **_

_**D. **_

* * *

"Another morning in paradice." I rolled off of the bed, placing my feet firmly on the ground.

_Walk. I dare you. _

It wasn't Snow, it was myself. I was _darin__g _myself. Maybe I had gone crazy.

_What are they going to do now? Have a bit of freedom while you've still got the choice! _

"I'm just not sure it's even my choice anymore..."

Still, the offer was tempting, especially as my toes tingled with delight and my feet tried to get back into a standing position, learning the ground around me as I stood up.

Freedom sure did sound sweet.

It reminded me of a day back in the Golden Age, something they celebrated on July fourth. Days barely mattered now. Christmas didn't exist. We almost didn't have birthdays that were celebrated.

What was that day called?

I shook my head. _Back to business. _

_I mean...what's the worst he's going to do besides what he's going to do? Oh, hello headache. I guess I'll never know until I try..._

I took a daring step forward, tensing up and closing my eyes, waiting on the impact...

Nothing happened.

* * *

_**Dear Journal,**_

_**It's all I can do to keep from crying. It looks like a war zone out in the Field. Dead bodies and blood are strewn everywhere. It looks like Kart disemboweled a few of them. He is one of the few still remaining. There's five of us - Anastasia included. The top three now ranges from Kart to me, Kart being first, me being last, and I haven't even killed anyone. I don't want to, either. **_

_**I can't help but feel, even know as I take shelter among the edge of the trees waiting out the vicious blood storm, as if this is just a game, and I'm the main pawn. **_

_**I now understand why Anastasia tried to kill herself. I wish I had never treated her the way I did. It was selfish and cruel. I'm no better than Snow. **_

_**If only I had listened to what she had to tell me...if only I'd believed...**_

_**Kart as seen me. He knows I'm here, hiding. He's walking towards me. If I never write again, well, you can guess what's happened. **_

_**In Christ,**_

_**D. **_

* * *

I'd ate breakfast, washed out my hair, and managed to look pretty decent whilst walking. Every time I moved forward I expected to be shot into the sky or struck to death with electricity.

I think it was a healthy fear. Don't you?

I bit my lip and walked up to the boundary line, touching the invisible pannel with my fingertips. It was cold like ice but welcoming like water. The red lettering of the boundary stuck out to me, burning into my corneas. I pressed my hand in further, my fingers sticking out. The air tickled them. I actually smiled.

"Dimitri," I mumbled, "if you can hear me, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

I knew he couldn't. I wasn't yelling. If I didn't yell he couldn't hear me. He probably barely heard me anyway, I was just judging by his responses from the two nights' past.

I eyed the Wood as two girls killed each other at the same time, their canons going off like large, loud fireworks. I grimaced. How many was that?

I added it up on my fingers.

"Four left, Dimitri included," I muttered. I thought about heading for the living room, but as thought the TV was jacked up something fierce. Not even fuzz or the bars came through. Indoor plumbing wasn't much of a problem anymore. My stuffed animal jury had turned against me when I started complaining about the bananas in the kitchen and how the yogurt was making me sick to my stomach. Oh, and Penguin was still pretty steamed from the previous night.

Nothing seemed better than standing there, watching as Kart stabbed someone with a leftover spear, dropping it and slipping something silver in his pocket. I recognized it as a familiar tool of mine.

He made his way towards the edge of the Wood, where I knew Dimitri was hiding. I prayed to God in Heaven above that he didn't kill Dimitri. I prayed with everything in me, so much that I started sobbing until I couldn't understand what I was saying and my whole body was shaking. It was an experience I could never describe in human terms. But I loved it and never wanted it to leave.

Sadly, that wasn't in the plan.

I heard the crackle and turned just in time to see it come down.

I screamed as electricity ran through my entire being.

* * *

_**Dimitri's POV:**_

"How many are dead?" I shared some of the wild honey with Kart. We'd made peace - for now. Until the last tribute died and it was down to the two of us.

Kart drizzled some of the delicacy on an apple before biting into it, shrugging, "I dunno. Twenty-two?"

I nodded, staring out into the distance. I wondered what Anastasia was up to, trying to ignore this high-pitched scream that I could just barely hear. Kart ate silently on his apple, noticing the edge of my brown journal sticking up out of my bag. He grabbed it, and though I tried to snatch it from him he was faster than I was.

I tried to dowse the red in my cheeks as he flipped through the pages, his face amused and full of sympathy at the same time. "_...that one kiss that should've been a hundred; that one whimsical moment that should've lasted a lifetime. _Dude, is that the Seven chick?"

I snatched the journal back at him, staring at the page and my sprawled handwriting. I was actually surprised he could read it. "No. I mean, yes. But she's more than just some _"chick"_. I constantly get lost in her eyes. She's beautiful...she's...she's something different. Everytime I look at her I just can't help but feel...oh, but what does it matter?" I closed the journal and shoved it back in my bag roughly.

Kart smiled softly, nudging me with his elbow. "Hey, man, don't sweat it." He shrugged, biting into his apple again. "I've got a girl back in Two, the prettiest girl I've ever seen. We're in love. True love, it does things to your head, man. I miss her so much, you know? I mean, I'm eighteen. Turning nineteen in a few months. She graduates and turns eighteen in a few days. As soon as she does, we're getting hitched." He sighed ruggedly. "I remember so many times when I didn't say "I love you". I regret it now. I never said it enough, never proved my love as much as I needed to. We never had enough of those true love, no-thought kisses. Never did we truly proclaim our love like I so desperately wanted to."

Kart took in a shaky breath. "Promise me one thing, Flemhoff," Kart bit the last of the apple off and tossed it behind us into the trees. I gulped and nodded. "Never let your girl feel worthless. You love her to no end. Give her whatever she wants, spoil her. Hold her close and just whisper 'I love you'. Don't do what I did, okay? Don't be me."

He stood, a last canon going off in the distance. Rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants, he removed something I couldn't see from his pocket. "Do me a favor, okay?"

I nodded, breathless.

"Tell Allie I love her, and I'm sorry, especially about the baby."

Kart closed his eyes, a single tear forming before he pulled the trigger and fell to the ground with a thud, his eyes wide open, staring at me. I stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed. I couldn't make sense of it, I couldn't breathe.

I did the only thing I could - closed my eyes and vomitted.

* * *

Steam rose off my body as I blinked. Coughing, I rolled on my side and observed my surroundings. Home?

No. I shook my head, memory flooding my mind and running across my vision. I'm in the Games. I've been stuck here for two days - and I just got electrocuted for standing too long in one place.

I screamed in outrage out of still being alive. "Really?" I yelled to ceiling. "You have _GOT _to be kidding me!"

_"'Fraid not, dear. But don't worry. Twenty more seconds. Any last words?" _

Twenty seconds? He had to get away. He needed to get as far away as possible.

I immediately stood and ran for my boundary, hollering for my brother.

* * *

_**Dear Journal, **_

_**Watching Kart die before my eyes so suddenly made me hurl. I feel like a part of me died with him. I threw up for the longest time, and I'm still trying to get the putrid taste out of my mouth. I'm sobbing, rocking back and forth. I never wanted anyone to die like that. I never wanted to witness it. **_

_**As soon as I coughed, a small parachute decended from the sky and landed in my lap. **_

_**It just might have made up for all of it. **_

_**I'm going to leave it in here, Journal, but just for your sake I'll re-write it. **_

_**Dear Dimitri, **_

_**Listen to me, Wheat-head. You come out of here alive, you understand? I'm counting on you, Mr. Flemhoff. Don't disappoint me. I'll be rooting. **_

_**Love and Pride, **_

_**Beatrice**_

_**Trisha**_

_**Weed-Whacker**_

_**Your choice. :)**_

_**Seeing this reminded me of how much I missed her. It made me feel warm and tingly to read it - **_

My writing was disturbed by a shrieking voice. "Dimitri!"

I swung my head in the direction of the voice. It was Anastasia.

"Dimitri, run!"

Run?

"I said run you idiot! RUN!"

"Annie?"

"Go! Get out of here while you can! I can't hold him off much longer!"

"Him?" I stood and ran towards her voice. Mistake?

I can't say that it was.

* * *

"No," I mumbled as he ran towards my boundary. I knew he couldn't see it, but apparently he could hear me and I could hear him. "No! I said _get out _not _get closer_! Shoo, Dimitri!"

_"A count down, Miss?" _Jimmy didn't wait for my reply. _"Sir, would you begin?" _

_"Gladly." _I felt his smirk. I wasn't afraid. Not anymore. _"Ten...nine...eight...seven..."_

Dimitri came closer and closer, his eyes lighting up about a hundred yards away. He'd seen me. Dimitri dashed to get there, slamming up against the wall. It was hard on the outside for anyone except me. "Dimitri..." a single tear slid down my cheek. I raised my hand and placed it flat against the boundary, my hand sucking through and pressing against his.

_"Three..."_

"Please run."

He shook his head vigorously. "Not gonna happen. I'm going to get you out of here."

"No," I said sadly. "You won't..."

_"Two..." _

"Please get out of here!"

"No."

_"One." _

_"Wait - !" _

We were shot into the air, heat and fire eating at my flesh.


	19. Til Death Do Us Part

"No! You incompetent fool!" Jimmy ducks under President Snow's swing.

"I'm sorry, s-s-sir!"

"You killed my Victor!" Snow grabbs him by the collar, eyeying him evilly.

"I-I-I don't think he's de-de-dead sir!" Jimmy sqeaks. He isn't so tough now.

"He better not be." Snow tosses him to the ground, staring at the screens intently.

* * *

I'm so happy when the memories fade out to this exact moment. Noises are slurring together as my brother runs, crashing down next to me. Blood is running from a deep gash in his forehead, tears already brimming. He holds my shoulders tightly. "Annie? Annie say something!"

"Wha-what happened to your for...? Are-are you...?" I reach up to brush the cut with my fingertips, but pain shoots down my arm and I quickly drop it. "You're-you're an idiot..."

He smiles slightly, holding back a strangled laugh. "I'm fine. You're not going to die, you hear me?"

I cough up blood, the taste metallic on my lips. "Dimitri I..."

"Don't talk, okay? You're going to be okay." He pulls my head into his lap, rocking back and forth slowly, whispering hurried prayer.

I'm not listening, as usual.

"I didn't…" I cough. "I didn't mean what I said." Tears roll down my cheeks.

"Annie, please," his throat is clogged, his words chocked.

"Now, you listen…to me, okay?" I'm groaning in between words, coughing and splurging. He finally realizes I'm not going to give in and lets me speak without interuption. "You are going to go home. You're going to check on Mom. Don't let her get depressed Dimitri. Let her know I lived life the way it was supposed to be lived. It isn't her fault. It never was." He knows what I mean. "Find…find Trisha. Kiss her every second, of every minute, of every hour, of every day. Tell her how much you love her. You're going to do this."

I swallow dryly. My eyes are glazing over, and I hold his arm gingerly. "You're going to grow old and happy and own a church," I continue saying, drifting far away. I see his face without really seeing it. "You and Trisha will get married and have a little girl and name her Anastasia Danielle, after Mom and me. And – and you'll be happy. And carefree…"

_God you're cute when you're worried, _I think. _In a brother way. You should wear that look more often. _

I groan as a painful stab hits my lower stomach, and I try to double over. It doesn't work. Dimitri is gasping for breath like me.

"Anastasia? Annie, calm down, it'll be okay! No, please, God, no, please..."

I'm losing consciousness; my breathing is rapid; tears are leaking from my eyes. I don't want to accept the truth, but fact is fact: I want to die. I want my brother to live. If I die, then he gets to live the life he's always wanted. And if he dies, I know that I could never live again, not even with Blondie or anyone back home. I couldn't look Mom in the face. They look too much alike. Never again would I be able to emerge from my slumber and be social.

I want to die. For Dimitri, I would do anything. And if it means keeping him alive, then I'll die right now.

I'm already there, so what point is there is denying? I ask myself.

"Dimitri…" I suck in a stinging breath, "tell Mom I love her. Tell Blondie it was fun while it lasted. Give Warren…Splice a hug for me. Tell Feverent she was the best, a second Mom. And tell Dariya to lay off the cigarettes. She's going to die way before her time if she doesn't. And Trisha…"

I swallow hard and blink, hoping the fuzziness will go away, but it only blackens more. "Dimitri," I say, "I love you."

"No," he shakes his head. "You can't do this to me! Anya, please! You can't do this to me!"

I close my eyes. I welcome death in, and I pray I get into Heaven when I die, that God will meet me at the front gate and say, "Well done thou good and faithful servant," though it's only been a short time.

"No!" he screams. My vision is gone and my chest isn't moving, but I can still hear him. "No! No, no, no, no!" he's sobbing and he's shaking my shoulders. Why aren't I gone? "No!" Dimitri shouts it over and over. This is torture; I'm dying more than once. "God, no, please, no! Annie, stand, sit up, please, do something! Don't die, please, PLEASE don't die!"

Noise fades slowly, though I know he's still standing over me, his knees pulled up to his chest as he rocks back and forth again, screaming to the Heavens, biting bacl curses he vowed to never say.

Then there's nothing but silence.

* * *

"Don't touch me," I growl, hugging my knees close to me. Her lifeless body, it's just there. Every second I keep hoping she'll sit up and make a snappy comment, say something sarcastic. "Don't touch me."

They aren't listening. I can't see their faces which are covered with masks. I hate them. I hate them all. A couple grab my upper arms and yank me up forcefully. I scream in outrage, kicking and trying my hardest to throw punches. "Let me go!" I yell. "Let - me - go!" I bow my head down and bite one's fingers. They squeal but don't let go, even as I taste blood in my mouth. Peeking my eyes up, I see how whoever-it-is raises a hand to slap the back of my head, almost in a sisterly way. It makes me even angrier as they lower their hand and send me up the ladder.

Tears burn in my eyes as I look down on my sister, a seperate carrier coming to pick her up and take her away. I can't breathe. I'm choking. I feel as if a part of me is dying with her.

No, I don't feel it. A part of me _is_. She was the only thing I had left, besides Mom, and I couldn't bother Mom with my problems like I could with her.

Once inside the carrier I close my eyes tightly and collapse on the bench. Nothing matters, not now. I sob, my body racking with pain. A soft hand touches my shoulder, and while I want to slap it away, it has a familiar, longing touch. I blink towards the hand's possessor. Trisha.

Without a second though I sit up straight and bury my head into her chest, crying until I'm sure her shirt is soaked through. Tiny tears prick in her eyes. "I'm sorry..." she whispers. "I'm so, so sorry..." Her hands run through my curls, though I'm hardly paying attention.

She kisses the top of my head like a mother would. It's killing me inside.

I cry until I fall asleep in her lap, though my dreams are tortured with nightmares and visions.

I can still see her pale face behind my closed eyelids.


	20. A Mile in Between

_**I know, I know, the last one was really short! But it just felt so much powerful by itself. **_

_**Peace Love and God bless hunnie bunnies!**_

_**~Future**_

_**Now, to give you what you wanted:**_

* * *

They gasp, holding me close.

"Then what happened?" they ask excitedly. I smile, laughing.

"Well, the ending is not as you would expect. You see, there is usually only one victor, not two. So…"

* * *

I wake to blinding lights, and I squint. I can just make out a figure looming above me, mouthing something to someone else. When they notice that I'm there, they talk to me.

"You're not really here," that's the first thing that I hear. "And you're not really alive. You live by that, you understand, kid?"

Feverent. I'd recognize her voice anywhere.

"Fev?" I cough, and I try to sit up, but I can't.

"Yeah, it's me." She punches my arm softly.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again!" Dariya screams, and Feverent snaps at her.

"You need to quiet down, you hear? You'll get us caught."

"Where's…where's Dimitri?" I ask.

"He's safe, for now at least." Feverent turns on a television in the white room, showing a live covering of the victor crowning. Dimitri's eyes are red and puffy as he nods and President Snow places the crown on his head.

I'm dying again. His face is so sad, so broken, so in pain.

I look around me. "Where…" I mumble, "How…?"

"You were dying," Feverent says. "And, well, my husband's a goody-two-shoes, so he looked to me and said, 'I've got a plan, and I need you to trust me.'. Like the good little wifey I am, I didn't deny and here we are."

Rae rolls his eyes in the far corner, where he is leaning against a wall. "Don't lie to her like that. The real story is that Fev here was close to tears, gnawing at her nails so much she was at her thumb's nub and still chomping. She was shaking and she was angry. 'We have to get her out. She's not going to die.' She said, and she stomped away. I followed, having no idea what she was doing. First, we hijacked one of the blimps, acted like we were taking up the victor, and, when everyone was focused on Dimitri, sent down some rebels to help attach you to the chopper. Dimitri didn't know it was us and we didn't tell him what we were doing."

"Why!" I yell, in shock. How could they not tell him? They should have told him!

"He never would've been believable in front of the cameras," Rae explained. Feverent glared. "What?"

"Don't make the kid think I actually like her! That'll ruin my reputation."

"Yeah, yeah," he rolls his eyes again.

I resist the urge to crack a smile, to laugh. "When can I see him?"

"A week, maybe two. A month at the most."

A month?

My head is swimming. I can't let him believe I'm dead for a _month._

"I need to see him," I say hurriedly. "I need to see him _now_."

"Here," Feverent turns up the volume on the television screen, and I watch intently. Caesar is interviewing him again, a special coverage after watching his "…twin sister die in the horrid arena."

_"Tell me, Dimitri," _Caesar states, fake sympathy on his features,_ "what did it feel like to watch your sister die? Your **little **sister at that?"_

Dimitri looks so tender I know he's going to break the moment he speaks.

_"It was…it…I can't explain," _he stammers, his eyes glaring hard at the floor. Tears are sprouting in his eyes._ "It's just…that was my sister. She was the only thing I had left." _He sniffles and wipes the tears away._ "Without her, I don't know what I'm going to do."_

The crowd makes an "aww" noise, and I see the irritated look he gets in his eyes.

"Cool down, cool down, cool down," I beg him, whispering.

_"You know what?" _he says._ "This is so bogus! I can't do this. I'm leaving." _

Dimitri stands and stalks off the stage, and the crowd goes "oooh" as if it'll make a difference.

_"Dimitri!"_ Trisha's running after him, trying to stop him from leaving just yet.

"Turn it off," I say quietly. "Turn – it – off!"

In a violent act I throw the closest thing I can find at it (that actually being the remote), knocking a gaping hole in it. I didn't know I was that strong.

"Take me to see him." I glare at all of them separately. "Take me to see him NOW."

"We can't," Dariya says.

"Why not?"

"Because," Feverent hisses. "We're on a government train, nut-ball. Calm yourself. We won't dock in Five for a couple more days."

"We're trying to lose trail of the politicians and such," Rae explains.

"And, as soon as we do dock, I promise to take you to him," Feverent has taken on a new face, a new tone. "I promise you'll see your brother soon. Now, until that happens, can you please apologize to Mr. TV while I go get some breakfast?"

I bite my lip to keep from smiling.

"Come on," Feverent coaxes. "Come on, Little Miss Anya. Apologize to Senior Television."

"I…I'm sorry, Mr. – "

"Senior!"

"_Senior _Television."

She nods approvingly. "Okay, now, next question: Banana or bran muffin?"

"Both," I answer, laying a lazy hand over my growling stomach. "I'm starved."

She laughs slightly, then leaves for my continental breakfast.

I just know, though, that this will be the longest week or two of my life.


	21. Never Let Go

I shake the jitters from myself, pulling the tux on tighter. Trisha halfway smiles at me before straightening out the back of my coat, followed by curling around me and finally pulling me into a kiss. It's small and lasts only a second, but my body fills with warmth instantly. "Happy birthday."

I grin, adjusting the crown President Snow had given me when I'd won unconventionally. "Thanks."

"You know this means I get to kick your butt for fun, right?" She smirks.

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know." Then I mumble, "But it's not like you don't do it _every day_."

Every morning, Trish and I would head out to the local gym and do hand-to-hand, for what used to be stress relief but now served as the winning factor of who bought breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Anastasia had been dead for over a month now. Trisha had abandoned her life in Seven, saying there was nothing to go back to. She secretly moved in with Mom and me, for safety reasons regarding my mental health, and to be honest, I probably would have lost my mind by now if she had not been here. It's been hard, but lately I've been cheery, jubilant even.

I'm now in the middle of doing my Victor tours, visiting each District individually. We'd raced from twelve to six in the first few days, and now we stand in the midst of District Five, my home turf. I can't wait to see everybody, so much to the fact I'm bouncing on my heels.

"Calm, Dimitri." Trisha sounds like she's talking to a puppy. I stop bouncing just for her amusement. She smiles and pats my curls. "What a good little boy."

I roll my eyes and she sticks her tongue out, our small war erupting in laughter.

Trumpets blare, and Trisha clasps a hand on my shoulder from behind. "Get going," she whispers, her head on my shoulder, her breath tickling my ear. I nod, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before walking out on the make-shift stage.

Everyone is silent as I stand there, shuffling across awkwardly. Dariya had arrived by plane early yesterday morning, saying that she'd had a prolonged stay in the Capitol and hoped I was doing well with the past few Districts. It's not like I needed much of an introduction. As far as anyone knew, I won by default, an accidently bombing. Snow had Caesar describe it as "…a bomb left over from last year's Games", though I'm distinctly sure that there weren't any last year.

Dariya stands as I sit, her eight-inch steeletos teetering her on stage. She smiles for the camera, tapping the mike to make sure it's working before proudly speaking. "Good afternoon," she greets. No one replies.

Dariya clears her throat, glancing down at notecards in her hands, though it looks more like a small wallet-pocket-book-thing on the screens. "As I'm sure you all know, we're here for the Victor's tour of the Seventy-Third Annual Hunger Games. I would like to announce now, your Victor, Dimitri Flemhoff of District Five, open for any questions you may have. Dimitri."

She gestures and I waste no time springing up there. I glanced behind the curtain to see Trisha give me a thumbs up. I give a small one back before turning to the crowds.

"Hey, everybody," I greet casually. They nod their acknowledgement. "Tough crowd," I grin wickedly, a few girls swooning as I run a hand through what curls I can with the crown on my head. "How is everyone?" I remove the microphone from its stand and walk around the stage, pacing back and forth. It's relaxing and helps to keep my anxiety down, though by now I am used to the publicity.

To be honest?

I hate every second of it.

"Good," some answer, others nod again, some wave their hands in either thumbs down, thumbs up, or halfway.

"Awesome," I smile falsely and rub my hands together, the sound echoing on the mike, accidently dropping it. I force my cheeks to go red. "Oops. Sorry."

Some laugh, some roll their eyes.

I cough awkwardly, balancing the mike in my hands. "So…" I trail off. "Questions?"

It's as if a thousand hands shoot into the air, and I pick the first eager hand I can find, watching as Trisha squeezes herself in on the front row. She always sits midway, right in front of the mike so I have something to focus on.

I'm grateful for it.

"Yes?" I point to someone in a brown coat.

"Dimitri," the voice is one I recognize. Warren Splice. "I'm sorry," he says quietly. "About your sister."

I swallow the stream of tears that threatened to overflow.

"It's okay," I say back softly. "It's A-okay."

I've gotten good at lying in the past month or so. It's a skill I didn't enjoy having but came in handy at times like this.

"You did the right thing. Going in there for her?"

"Yeah," I cough to get the knot out of my throat. "Next?"

I pick the next hand.

"What was it like, to kiss Beatrice? Ooh, was she bad? Are you two still dating, and, if not, here's my number!" A blonde girl that looks suspiciously like Blanche Nightingale, someone who couldn't stand me in grade school, raises a huge poster into the air with her phone number on it.

I have to look Trisha hard in the eyes to keep her from standing up and decapitating the poor girl.

"No," I laugh, "we're still dating, and she is an _ah-maze-ing _kisser. I honestly don't know what she sees in me." For a good, sarcastic measure, I do a sexy half-smirk and flip my hair out of my eyes. Blanche dies in her seat, and Trisha is biting back a laugh. "But whatever it is, I'm glad she sees it."

"Aww," some do it in a they're-so-cute kind of way. Others – mostly girls – groan it.

Oh, great. I've become a practical boy toy.

How wonderful.

"Dimitri!" I hand sparks in the air, and I acknowledge it. "If you could have anything at all, what would it be?"

"My sister," I say without hesitation, my emotions finally bubbling up. I gesture to Dariya, who quickly clops up there and removes the mike from my hands. "That's all the questions we have time for today. Thank you for your time and don't forget the souvenir cart in the back of the rows! Have a merry day! And may the odds be _ever _in your favor."

You could only tell how much she despised saying it by her facial features.

Trisha squirms from her seat, knowing the break down I'm about to have. I try to gulp it back, but it's inevitable.

I jump the three small steps to the back stage and run to my own personal trailer. The door opens not a moment later, and I don't turn back to see her, Trisha. I don't think I can take it, not today.

I wish I was at the gym.

"Dimitri?" The voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. My whole body goes on edge, my shoulders coming up in protection, my eyes closed in a smidge of fear, and my every hair I have standing up in disbelief and hope.

I turn on my heels slowly, so slowly I think time is standing still.

She holds her arms up when I see her, in a long forgotten shrug. "Surprise?" she smiles sheepishly. I can't think. I can't process what I'm seeing. So, instead of talking, I stumble towards her until I'm a few inches from her face.

"Ana…" I can't finish it. She bites her lip and nods, trying to blink away the tears.

"Yeah. Yeah, Dimi, it's me." She coughs, the tears stinging her eyes. "I'm home."

For a moment I can't speak. Then, my whole body creaking, I lean forward and wrap her in a hug, resting my head against her shoulder, feeling the soft fabric, still not comprehending that she is here, holding me. That she's alive.

When it finally registers, that's when I break down, wrapping my arms around her tighter and not letting ago. "I-I thought I'd lost you forever," I mumble over and over again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…the way I treated you…I thought I'd lost you forever…"

She nods, sobbing as well. "I know. I know. I thought I was gone forever, too. I was sobbing in my sleep thinking about never seeing myself in the mirror again."

I smirk and lean up, shoving her shoulder playfully, to which she shoves back until we're shoving and laughing, like old times.

"Anastasia?" Blondie opens the door, letting it come to a paralyzing close behind him. His smile is wide and uncomprehending. His eyes are twinkling with hope and happiness.

"Can I…?" she trails off, and I bob my head.

"Oh, and hey," she stops mid-turn. "Happy birthday."

She smiles. "Happy birthday. Brendon!"

For the first time in her life, my sister showed her girly side, running and crashing into Blondie, who yanked her up in a hug before giving her a long, passionate kiss.

**_Three Years Later, _**

**_Dear Journal, _**

**_Well, it's official. I'm going to bible college. We actually have those now, thanks to the war that we won. Katniss, our Mockingjay and leader, says that it's going to take a while to rebuild, but we're going to do it. Coin is our new President, for now. I'm not sure I like her any more than I did Snow, but at least she isn't plotting to kill my sister – at least, that I know of. _**

**_I enlisted in the army about a year after Anastasia's return. She wanted to come with me, but Blondie refused, and so did I. I couldn't risk losing her again, plus she needed to be there for Mom and keep Trisha from coming after me. I almost died more than I'd like to admit, way more than I'd ever admit to Trisha. _**

**_Speaking of Trisha, God, there's so much to tell. She wanted to get married the day we both turned eighteen. But once I explained college and the church and all, she seemed to understand and said that we could wait until eighteen and a half. Ha-ha. _**

**_Okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating. I'm the one that wanted us to get married as soon as I graduated, and she explained all of that stuff to me. Now I'm kind of glad that she did, not that I don't plan on marrying her as soon as I get my degree. _**

**_Anastasia and Blondie are doing okay. On their side, Blondie is getting ready to graduate with his masters in Nano-technology. Annie showed him some piece of paper she'd found in Mom's old drawer, something about Dad and a secret weapon? She is pursuing Nano-technology, same as Brendon, in order to finish Dad's studies. She won't give much more information than that, says that it'll be a surprise. _**

**_Sometimes, their relationship irks me. It's not that I think it's disrespectful towards Shane or not in God's will, it's just…weird? Yeah. Weird. They're all mushy-gushy one moment and then best friends the next. Sure, Weed-Whacker and I are the same way, but still. Not to mention that he's in his early twenties and she's only eighteen. That part kind of gets to me. _**

**_Our house was bombed during the war about two years after Anastasia returned. Mom was in the blast as she rushed the others out of the house. She lived for a few hours, and waited until I was there to see her one last time before she "gave up the ghost", in Biblical terms. _**

**_Sometimes, especially late at night, I think about her and get sick to my stomach, usually end up crying. Anastasia's the same way, says she does it all the time. I don't know if I believe her, if she's just trying to make me feel better…_**

**_No. Snap out of it, Dimitri. I swore I'd never think she was crazy or lying or doing things on whims again. I've finally learned that my little sister actually knew what she was talking about most of the time. I can't believe it took her death for me to finally understand that. _**

**_Annie sat me down one day and told me everything, from beginning to end, all of it, even during the Games when she was struck/nearly struck with lightning. My pulse was pounding through every second of it. If only she'd told me…if only I'd known…_**

**_That was the past. No need to worry about it now. _**

**_Even though I still will, because that's what I do. I'm the worrying warrior, as Trish had called me once in a letter she wrote. I told her about all the great friends I was meeting, one couple that made me smile the most. She was a red-head with a fiery spirit, and he was a little clueless, though you could tell how much he loved her. He was a general, General Evaine. He and the red-head possessed a quality unlike any I'd ever seen. _**

**_Then there was Drew. _**

**_Imagine, if you will, a taller, more elusive Trisha, who was quick to take charge, but also quick to lay low. _**

**_Come to think of it, Trisha and Drew are a lot alike while still being polar opposites. _**

"Dimitri," Trisha stands at the door, gesturing me out. "You're on in five." I nod and she walks away.

**_Well, Journal, duty calls. I'm not sure I'll be writing in you much for the next upcoming months. I'd just like to leave some passing quotes. _**

**_The first is a bible verse. _**

**_Jeremiah 29:11 – For I know the plans I have for you, saith the Lord; plans for good and not for evil, to give you an expected end. _**

**_Then there's one that's been weighing on me heavily, in a book I read once I believe. _**

**_"When you find the right people, you never let go. The people who count are the ones who are your friends in lean times. You have all the friends you want when things are going well." – James Lee Burke. _**

**_The first part sticks out to me, and every time I read it, think about it, faces pass in front of me. Trisha. Blondie. Tabitha (when Trisha moved she'd brought Tabby with us). Anastasia. I realize now that I've had all the right people since the very beginning. _**

**_Now I have a reason to never let go. _**

**_In Christ,_**

**_D. _**

"You done?" Annie smiles at me from the doorway. "Hurry up, man. Trisha's about to have a spazz attack." I gave her a weird look. "Okay, okay, so, she's not, but still. Dariya is. You know how she is about timing, and she's trying really hard to stay off cigarettes for my cause."

I grin and close my journal, resting the pen precariously on top and walking towards her. She fingers my scar as I pull on the aviator jacket I'm supposed to wear with this outfit. District Two. I'll have to make sure I find Allie.

"You're still an idiot," she murmurs, throwing an arm around my shoulders and leading me back stage. "But you're mine, so, I guess that makes up for it."

I laugh. "You've got a point. I don't regret it, though. I never will." I take in a deep breath, smoothing my jeans. I walk up the three small steps. Waiting until my cue to come on stage, I glance behind me. All four of them kiss three fingers and send them up to me.

_Never let go, _Annie signs.

_Never let go._

* * *

**_And, Finis. :)_**

**_Hope you enjoyed this as much as I did writing it! _**

**_Peace Love and God bless!_**

**_~Future_**


End file.
